


Revelations

by squiggly_squid



Series: Parable [6]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Mass Effect 3, Original Character(s), Renegon (Mass Effect)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-05-15 07:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 48
Words: 212,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5777224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squiggly_squid/pseuds/squiggly_squid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Married since before the hunt for Saren, Jane and Garrus try to put together a galaxy-wide army to fight the Reapers in order to give their children a future.  Part four of the Parable series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

-Garrus-

His days are filled with the monotony of trying to get someone, anyone, within the Hierarchy's Senate _or_ military's Legion to even agree to meet with him, let alone hear him out. No matter who he tried, he was victim to being shuffled around between representatives of officials without ever really getting anywhere.

All of it leads to him returning to an empty bed with nothing to show for the task laid out before him and failing to sleep. When he does manage to find himself coming to out of whatever unconscious state to a rising sun, there is nothing but cold sheets and loss to greet him when he reaches over to her side of the bed. That hurts the most, the knowing she is out there, but far from him by their own disillusioned hopes to make a difference.

Occasionally he found himself able to spend time with his mother, but, as he soon found out, the day he had brought Jane to meet Valeria Vakarian was one of the 'good days' which were few and far between. He was lucky on the few days when he visited and she simply assumed he was a fellow patient - his half ruined face lending to the mistaken identity - or simply his father when shrouded in shadow, but then there are the bad days.

The bad days, nightmarish things that they are, paints him as a monster to his mother, a twisted thing of a man come to hurt her, rob her, or – most devastating - violate her. Every day is a change in his supposed 'motives' and the latter always hurts the most, but he knows she only sees the scars along his face. What, exactly, she sees in him, what that twisted side of his face makes him, he doesn't know, but it's enough to make her scream and howl in agony and terror.

He's ashamed to admit that, many days, he is afraid to go to walk into the Institute and up to her room to see her, too afraid to find out that she isn't in a more lucid state.

By whatever Spirits he doesn't exist in, he is able to receive messages from his wife, his love, and they have become the only thing that helps to pull him out of the dejection of his continued failures. He neither cares who is allowing them to speak or how they are keeping the correspondence secret, nor does he care because all that matters is her, her words, and any news of the precious children they created together.

Children that, according to her frustrations that never cease to amuse him, are growing fast and strong. He supposes he has the Salarian doctor Mordin introduced them to to thank for that. The two of them have never met, but Jane speaks highly of her and, knowing his mate, he knows the woman must be special to have earned her trust so quickly and so completely. For that and the fact that both she and their babies are well cared for, he is happy and, if just for the few moments it takes him to read and reread her messages, can forget the worries on his side of the galaxy.

When Jane asks of his own state – 'and, no, I don't mean the political shit you're going through' – he can seem to keep the words at bay, filling the small allowance they're given with everything. He tells of his perceived failure to his own mother to protect her from a foe that can neither be fought or within his power to change. It tears him apart, leaving him keening and gasping hitching breaths of the closest thing to crying he's capable of, and he knows she tries her best to console him, but there is nothing to be done but accept and let the wound close with time, never completely healing, but numbing enough to function.

He also tells of the improvement in his own self, even if he isn't as proud as she seems to be, and wishes he could see her face the day he finally peeled away the bandage to reveal his mostly healed face. Cybernetics now buried within the hide, he merely looks scarred from the burns and shrapnel, ropey scars from cowl to eye that will never truly fade without intervention to give him new plates, instead of a clone of the once rogue Turian Spectre. Surprised to admit, he actually awaits the day that he sees her again to see if her claims of 'hey, scars are sexy' and 'I love a man with rugged scars' still ring true. If not for her, he'd probably be ashamed to carry them, duck his head in effort to hide them, instead of hold his head high, even walk straight up to his father – with who he has a strained relationship entailing of brisk conversations with complete neutrality and deafening silences – on a day-to-day basis.

His addiction, too, is an actual accomplishment he couldn't wait to admit to her, practically purring at her overjoyed words as he reads them. Had she been able to stay longer or not been expected to leave at all, he'd have admitted to wanting her by his side as she originally wanted, to shamelessly hold onto her as the dissipation of the drugs wracked his body. The entire process was more than brutal, consisting of day full of vomiting ever content of his body, headaches that left him writhing in the darkened hotel room, a racing heart, and rapid panting from the feeling of overheating in a well-ventilated room. Yet, he would do it all again for the clear headed feeling of not having to keep track of an injection's fading effects or rushing to find a vial in the middle of the nights so his hide didn't crawl and his hands would no longer tremble.

But the time he has to himself, the small oasis of joy in the words of his mate and his responding communication, always ends too soon and he must take back to the effort of trying to prepare his people, to ensure there is a galaxy left in which to raise his children. It is only for them and his wife that he is fighting the uphill battle to give the Turian people a fighting chance against an undefeated enemy. Failing that, at least he can think of it as giving everyone a chance to not 'get caught with their pants down' by the Reapers.

One day brings him to Helos for a visit to his mother, or a gauge of her condition to see whether he'd be more a hindrance than help, and he walks in to see her smiling as she looks out the window of her room. The position merely tells him that she is not suffering a fit of paranoia, so he takes it slow with a tap on her door.

Unfortunately, when she looks to him, there is little to no recognition in her eyes, and he at least takes relief that her smile does not falter. He should feel something besides the hollowing sadness at her greeting and offer to join her for friendly companionship, but he can't as he takes the seat beside her bed, can't stop envying his sister for the days she had had where Valeria Vakarian was more their mother than an ailing woman. He is long past that point where he blames himself for the missed opportunities because it doesn't nothing for him, doesn't change the unapologetic truth that he'd do it again if circumstances were the same, and only clouds his mind with self-hate when he should thriving to enjoy every chance he has with her now.

"Did I ever tell you about my son?" she asks him during the long time they spend talking as if two patients within the Institute. "He's such a wonderful man, so strong and honorable." Smiling, she looks to him with pride and happiness in her vocals and eyes, yet not _seeing_. "Garrus has come so far in such a short time, made a name for himself, a name _away_ from his father."

He tries to hide any emotion at that and simply nods for her to continue, rumbling in thought. The last thing he wants to hear is what he's either done or not done, fearing the pain of hearing what his mother thinks of him, the words she would never tell him because she'd probably expect him not to listen. He never was good with praise, after all, and even less so when it feels like he's intruding on a conversation he shouldn't be guest to.

"My poor son," she continues, unaware of his inner turmoil. "He and his father can never manage to get along. 'Too alike', people would say, but I know the truth. He and Titus _are_ alike, but my mate wishes they weren't." His mother frowns with a rumbling sigh. "Titus believed that Garrus could achieve everything he couldn't, reach heights he failed at, if he used his own mistakes and faults to raise him. Children don't grow with their parents mistakes, don't live their lives from the experiences of another. 'I never want Garrus to want for anything because he will always be able to _achieve_ it,' he would always say… I just wish he had realized our son didn't need an instructor, but a father before it was too late and their already strained relationship became irreparable and that my son can find a way to understand"

Not sure what to tell her, how to help her after just hearing something not meant for his ears, but filled with confusion, he can't help the words that slip from his mouth. "Understanding doesn't mean forgetting and granting forgiveness."

Nodding with a rumble, she looks to him and he sees something within her eyes now that he doesn't want to hope could be some part _his_ mother. "Maybe not forgive and forget, but perhaps come to understand he made a mistake."

His mouth opens with a choked off word, unable to speak at the near plea. Heart dropping from its place in his chest, he keens with a soft nod and moves into her arms, hugging her like the sad, broken child of his youth. He has no idea or care for how long he clings to the frail body that has become her cage, spending the entire time of her lucidity in her arms.

That is the last day he ever has with his mother and the last day of any sort of companionship from the woman, Valeria Vakarian. Every day after, he must remain outside her room to keep from stressing her with his presence, but it doesn't lessen the pain as the light fades more and more from her eyes, her condition plummeting. He even watches in agony and sorrow as she no longer recognizes even his own sister, confusing her for an overburdening aid, and soon loses his father's connection to the tightening vice around her mind.

That is until, one morning, she does not wake from her slumber, chest unmoving and plates cold. His father's keen could be heard through the Institute – but it could have been due to the echoing of his two children – when Garrus watched the older Vakarian burying his face in his mate's cowl and wail, body wracked with dry sobs, he dropped his head and clenched his eyes against the pain, feeling like an intruder in a bonded mate's grief.

It's hours before they manage to bring Titus to separate from the body, Garrus actually being the one to go to him, coax him away in a sort of sick, twisted irony. He is his sister and father's support that night, easing a pain he knows all too well and was left alone to drown under, as he shares a long, hard drink as all they tell stories of the woman they both loved, both knew in their own ways. There is pain, he has no doubt there will always be for them all, but it almost seems like sharing it helps to lessen the weight upon their shoulders – his father carrying the most with his second half now gone.

They bring his mother to Palaven with them and release her ashes into the winds, as a symbol of her soul taking to the Spirits. For that one moment, Garrus wishes to believe in them for the sole purpose of asking them to give her peace and a place among them. She had earned it with her unerring devotion to a family torn with strife even in her weakened and frightening state and he wants to believe she has found solace at last.

Despite his every desire to dwell in the dark waters of loss and despair, he knows he must pull himself out and continue his grueling efforts to make something of the world he has found himself brought back to, of his home. Driving himself with the fact that at least his mother is free from the shackles of her body and the nightmare soon to come and rip away the beauty of the home she made with her bondmate, he moves his attempts at an audience into the physical plane, demanding attendance. However, it doesn't get him anywhere but the inside of a cell for the night for causing a disturbance and refusing to leave under authority, but his efforts do have an unforeseen consequence in the form of Titus Vakarian sitting his son down and asking to hear what it is he wants heard.

So he lays out everything, talking away the night and into the early hours until everything is told, seen, and read from his entire service with Commander Jane Shepard and, surprising beyond his every expectation, his father _accepts_ the truth. The first person to ever look at the facts and actually see what they all obviously point to is _his father_ and, not only that, he actually moves to help Garrus be heard, using his higher tier to back their claims. He has to admit that his stubbornness apparently comes from both parents, instead of solely being from his mother as he believed, when Titus Vakarian calls upon every associate within the higher political tiers he has until he's practically demanding an audience with the Primarch himself.

He knows his 'Reaper Task Force' was merely an obligatory acquiescence to end the constant harassment he and his father laid upon their political leaders, he'd be ignorant not to, but he doesn't care. Not when he's using every resource to arm and fortify every ship and major military position the Hierarchy has as well as assign better training to any military official he comes across. _Generals_ were actually listening when he spoke, taking his orders into their command and using it to train their forces, and it took a long time to come to terms with the fact that when everyone said 'Praetor Vakarian', they meant _him_.

He doesn't tell Jane of his designation, though, keeps it as an Advisor position only even though that in itself is only partially accurate. She's excited enough to hear that he's made a difference – 'I am still being fucked by these idiots more focused on my love life than the end of the fucking universe, Garrus!' – and he doesn't want to make the fact that he's one of the highest ranking position in the Hierarchical military, crossing the line into the political side of the Hierarchy, something that will make her shield him when they join again to lead this war. The last thing he needs is her taking him off the field, and risking her own safety, because she thinks the Hierarchy will need a Praetor more than the two who have been through it since the beginning at the front of their combined forces.

When he finally visits her, taking his Task Force's Corvette, Invictus, he completely surprises her, or he tries to. It is actually _she_ who surprises _him_ when he comes through the door of the secured 'apartment' they have her in and sees her for the first time in what seems like ages.

 _She's beautiful_ is the first thing he thinks as he runs to her, kissing her and getting as close as he can with her round belly – they weren't kidding when they warned us the babies would grow rapidly as they caught up to their development like Turians tend to do. He can't keep his hands off her, even as she's clawing at his clothes to get him undressed, can't stop touching the growing life within her and singing with his softest vocals of everything he will give these two children. She, too, is beautiful in the way she carries the softer curves and softest under his hands, the soldier gone in place of the mother of his children, a feminine form of his wife he wishes the war wouldn't wash away, drain into nothing but hard muscles and fiery biotics.

He has to leave her all too soon, their departure filled with promises to remember their deal – even if he can't come get her _right_ when the babies are born and must wait at least four weeks for them to become strong enough for travel according to the Salarian woman – and desperate kisses that must last them for the next separation just as long as the last. Taking in her beauty once more and kneeling to nuzzle and purr to his children, he forces himself to swallow down his old ways that would have no trouble turning his back on his duty and turn to his ship, taking the doubly long ride home. He knows she'll be safe now that she has not only her doctor and the Admirals vouching for her to the Alliance Committee, but her newest friend, a Krogan of a human that seems a child at heart, yet loyal.

Everything is as it should be, his work progressing to the point that he's less worried that Palaven will be wiped out in one fell swoop of a Reaper's beam and more confident that they can at least survive a few devastating battles – cold, ruthless calculus at work – and his messages with his wife starting to hint at things on Earth beginning to calm down enough for her to get her voice heard – whether or not they are listening, she doesn't say. That is, until he gets a message that hits him harder than Tarak's rocket, sending him to his knees and trembling in mute terror.

_'_ _Jane has gone into labor expectantly after a situation. Condition acceptable for all three. Will keep ongoing updates as able.'_

Each and every word hurts, like a knife in his chest, as he whines in distress, unable to do anything even if he managed to find the strength to rise and get on a ship right now destined for the fastest route to Earth. In fact, when he realizes that's the perfect idea, strong hands stop him, he father willing to take the brunt of his frightening anger when Garrus turns it on him.

He's sure he must have punched the man, but Titus Vakarian stays firm, his voice stern when he tells his son that there is no way he can be there in time to do what he's planning, that his desperate rush to her side will only bring up suspicion for a secret they are trying to keep from the public, that these children aren't the product of a mistake with a _human_ stranger.

Like a time too long ago for Garrus to ever remember, his father wraps his arms around him and rumbles in every soothing tone he can conjure, the two of them waiting it out until he receives a message.

_'_ _Congratulations. You are the father of a boy and girl. All three are healthy… She claimed to owe you a 'kick in the ass for putting her through that shit' before falling back to sleep from the sedatives.'_

Both men laugh in relief and Garrus trills and chirps in happiness, never feeling the joy he does now as the sounds of his father's congratulations echo somewhere off in the distance. He knows the only thing better would have been there right beside her, holding her hand and cradling his children for the first time, but he will cherish this moment for the rest of his life, cradling the datapad with its message into the night of perhaps the first real sleep in a long time.

He waits, impatiently, until time when Jane's doctor will allow him to finally come get her and his babies. When that time comes, he is preparing what he will need to most likely break her out of confinement when his sister comes to him, a worried flickering to her mandibles.

"Garr, there's something you need to see," she whispers and can't seem to make eye contact. That grabs his attention more than anything, his high strung sister never one to falter from telling you what she's thinking and doing it with little remorse. Much like his wife, he now realizes, though maybe a _bit_ more remorseful that Jane. Following her into the seating area of the house, he looks up to the vidscreen just as his Omni-Tool begins to ring and flash violently on his arm. It goes unnoticed as his eyes widen, mouth falling open and heart dropping to the ground between his feet.

"We've just received news that the Sol System has gone dark," the reporter says, a look of worry on her plated face as her vocals crack in worry. "I repeat, the communications from Earth and the Alliance's Sol positions have gone silent."

"Sol," he snaps, pulling on his professional cloak so he can do one last thing before fulfilling a duty greater than any he owes his people. "I'm going to get Jane and my children. You and dad arm yourselves and get off Palaven immediately, do you understand?"

"But… what about your Task Force?"

"I've done all I can to help the Hierarchy, now I'm taking what I'm owed." He opens his tool and ignores incoming comms, they'll only tell him what he already knows. "I can't do anything here, not while they're out there and _I'm not with them_."

She doesn't question after that, doesn't get in his way as he suits up in his new armor, gives a final hug and demand that they follow his orders, just this once, and takes to his Corvette. On the way to the Docks, he realizes something he should have known from the moment Solana stepped into the room.

Jane wouldn't just _stay_ on Earth, that's not who she is. She will be in the fight, on her way to him before they fight this together like every time before. So what would going to Earth do but waste his time and fuel? Where else would she go? Where _could_ she go if the two of them are thinking the exact same thing?

 _She would take the steps to putting together an army instead of blindly searching in an entire system for me_ , he thinks as he sets course for the Capital, opening his communications. There is only one place to go where she will have the biggest chance of putting together armies to fight the Reapers, the one place in abundance of politicians from every species.

The Citadel.

His ticket to the Citadel? The Primarch.

Primarch Fedorian, he knows, is the next step when her attempts to convince the Council fail, which they all know will. Councilors are the voice of a people to the Galaxy, but, internally, they do not have the power beyond being an Ambassador and Galactic Lawmaker. When they fail to see logic and truth, there is always the fact that the _actual_ world leaders can make alliances among themselves. That's just what he hopes for as he insists the Primarch get to safety from the system before the Reapers attack, suggesting a War Summit be called based on his suspicions.

His work as Praetor must have gained him enough praise because Fedorian agrees, taking to the Invictus with a select few of his guard. Just as Garrus lets himself have high hopes for getting out of the Apien Crest, he's reminded why he doesn't often allow himself to be optimist when communications go dead in the system.

The Reaper forces follow close behind and, he knows, that the small ship has no chance of outrunning one, let alone a small fleet, so he orders the pilot he obtained in the Capital to drop low, wait for the opportunity. He knows what he isn't saying, that they will take the chance when the Reapers are occupied wiping out their people, but they are Turian, they know that war always has a cost, even when they don't initiate it.

No such chance at a clear escape is possible when the Invictus is fired upon and forced into a crash landing on Menae. His one way to get to his family goes down around him in a blaring of alarms and burning hull and all he can think of is, once again, a hope that the word of the Summit got through, that _she_ will come for him because he can no longer come to her.


	2. Chapter 2

-Jane-

Arriving on Earth makes Jane truly see how _alone_ she is, even when surrounded by people. By 'people', she only means the escort of armed Alliance police officers, few remaining Normandy crew to be taken into questioning, and the solitary Salarian obstetrician Mordin introduced her to, named Jharen.

The only thing keep the utter isolation at bay is the fact that, growing within her, are two shards of the happiness and companionship she has only found so completely in another. A person she has, stupidly, pushed away to the other side of the galaxy because of her own ignorant illusions that this incarceration can become a means to prepare their species.

A task which turns utterly hopeless the moment she arrives at the apartment at the base here in Vancouver provided for her during the trial – a prison cell by any other name – and she is immediately bombarded by comm requests from, apparently, every media company humanity has in the galaxy looking to hear about, not the Reapers, but of every other thing under the sun. 'Where have you been, Shepard?', 'Are the rumors true about your records saying you are married to a Turian?', 'Is the upcoming trial why your records have no been sealed by the Alliance?', 'Is it true that your presence here may be involved in a developing issue between the Alliance and the Batarians?', and, most concerning considering the nature of it, 'Does your husband know of your pregnancy and is he willing to raise another man's child?' all only _scratch_ the surface of what she sees any time she turns on the vidscreen.

That's part of why she's taken to her old ways of just wasting her time - between useless calls for attendance by the Alliance Justice Board and failed attempts at a hearing with the Defense Committee she actually _wants_ , that is – by either sketching enough to fill every scrap of free paper or playing every song she knows twice over. She's not ready to fully admit that she can't spend that dead time with sleeping, loneliness and nightmares aside. Doing that would be admitting she has a definite problem if her condition gets worse without Garrus at her side.

Her condition is easily noticed by the Salarian woman, and definitely _not_ appreciated, and, while she really wants to do what's best for those who cannot care for themselves, she can't seem to dispel the dreams. It's pretty damn difficult to just tell her mind to stop conjuring up images of the children she wishes with every fiber make it through the pregnancy and into the world, images that say she won't be able to protect them from the evil of the universe.

Speaking – well, _communicating_ – with Garrus helps. She almost wishes she could hear him to soothe her to sleep and keep her under the veil of his calming voice, of the strength of mind she gets from feeling the warmth in words and sounds from his vocals, but she's unable to. The risk is too high, those who are helping her say, no way to not bring up suspicion from the Justice Board. Still, it's because of what she _does_ get that helps keep the damn nightmares at bay at least for a time, enough to not have Jharen completely get on her case.

Speaking of those that are defending her, she hadn't expected the turnout of military officials that she had at her back. Sure, those like now-Admiral Anderson and Hackett, she expected, but the others were either completely from left field or pleasant surprises. Sure, she had hoped Admiral Kahoku would have given her a chance to explain herself concerning her temporary cease-fire with Cerberus and he had, thankfully, seen the importance of putting that aside in order to accomplish a task that fell out of anyone _official's_ hands or jurisdiction – not that she liked that reason to begin with, but there wasn't anything to do about that nor anyone individually to blame. What _had_ surprised the living hell out of her was the attendance of one Rear Admiral Mikhailovich, and at _her_ defense no less.

'During my inspection, Shepard vehemently defended her non-Alliance, non- _human ,_ crew, even to the point of blatant subordination. I may not like her attitude, but I'll be damned in I believe, for one moment, that the issue in the Bahak system was as clear cut as a racist terrorist act,' he had said to the Board on her defense. 'Besides, I was _there_ during the attack on the Citadel and that was _not_ any Geth ship.'

While it didn't sway them into looking at the _why it was necessary_ and _that she only completely_ _ **and Alliance operation**_ instead of the _what are we going to do with you now that you're a galactic criminal_ , but it did make her believe she had a better, if by a miniscule fraction, chance at successfully convincing the Alliance to better defend and prepare for what was coming. Plus, she knew that Admiral Hackett was working behind the Defense Board to put together what he could, preparing his people in any attempt to prevent unnecessary loss of innocent soldiers because they all had their thumbs tied up their ass by red tape.

At least, she tells herself so she doesn't focus on her growing distain for her own people, she has what she can consider friends, or at least a sort of friendly support group around her that leaves her feeling less alone and an exile on her own planet. People in the most unlikely places became to know her not as the disgraced Commander, but as Shepard, one even calling her by her first name and another by 'Lola', whatever the hell that came from.

The first, and probably closest, was Jharen, her physician, and very unique woman. Not as talkative and scattered in thought as Mordin, but just as intelligent in her field of work. When asked why she was in the Salarian Tasks Group instead of a political position that seems the norm for the female of her species, Jharen had stopped her work and turned completely to the redhead and told her a story of her past.

"Salarian eggs are fickle things," the woman had said, a slight frown making the wrinkles on her face deepen. "Many are even lost to the slightest off conditions. During own incubation, rival family sabotaged heating stabilizers because the perfect conditions were present to produce female. That is… unfortunate for rival bloodlines." Seeing Jane's confused frown, the woman smiles, the pain obviously long since forgotten or overcome as Mordin once said Salarians capable of. "Most of my siblings' eggs did not develop past embryonic stage, but I did. Unfortunately, lapse in heat caused unforeseen consequence. Was not fertile when age of maturity presented, was not of same value as other females, seen no difference from male from lesser bloodline."

Jharen went on to explain that, instead of dwelling on the unchangeable, she found interest in the reproduction and fetal development of varying species. That is what brought her into the Genophage modification team with Mordin. Where Solus worked to modify it to bypass the adaptation that developed in the Krogan, she was tasked with making sure the modification didn't work _too_ well, ensuring that those children that _survived_ didn't, in turn, suffer genetic mutations detrimental to the species in generations to come. She took her job not only seriously, but with a sort of personal determination that left Jane with the confidence that Mordin did, in fact, find the most capable person in the galaxy to make sure her babies were healthier than any other. _Someone else would have gotten it wrong._

Another friendship she hadn't expected was with her – jailor – guard, a Lieutenant James Vega. Falling into a comfortable comradely with the man that was turned into her shadow and invisible leash was not what she'd have considered when arriving on Earth and being introduced to by Anderson, but it all began with an intrusion on her privacy that started a conversation of Earth when it was once less a symbol of what they fought for.

Playing guitar one day on the bed in the room that was hers, in a prison room disguised as an apartment, she doesn't notice when the man steps into the room and doesn't see him until the sound of strings ends and she lifts her eyes. A huge grin spreads over his face, but instead of the jab of never expecting 'Commander Shepard, savoir of the Citadel' to be a guitar player and secret fan of old world rock and roll, he asks to sit down, to talk about his own favorite classics. They spend hours between the times she is called to attempt to push her fictitious boulder up the hill of politics talking of anything and everything.

One day, he even opens up and tells her of what brought him here, to watching her back and keeping her reigned in so she doesn't do something entirely _Jane_. Unbeknownst to her, he too faced the Collectors during the same time she and her team were working to bring them down, wipe them out. She could tell from the telling of it that it didn't end as planned even before he got to the point of his decision to obtain intel at the cost of colonists, intel that didn't do shit considering the Normandy's work at felling the entire Collector base. Such a choice sent him into a state of depression and confusion, questioning his reasons and capabilities, and onto Omega until he was approached by none other than Admiral Anderson for this very job.

That surprises her more than she'd have thought. Sure, she was in a sort of professional friendship with her former Captain, but she'd have never expected his working to ensure any many cards as possible where in her deck, and without her asking for it to boot. He was, after all, the one solely responsible for dealing with getting communications to her mate, keeping her updated as well as sending across their communications. How, she doesn't know exactly, but she has a guess that it might have to deal with some of the contacts he had put together during the two years working on the Citadel with more than just humanity's Alliance contacts.

Hell, he even danced on the edge of insubordination and formal reprimand every time he was in presence when she was called up in front of the Defense Committee _and_ Justice Board and practically demanded the bureaucratic skirting around real issues shit be stopped and they open their damn eyes – not his exact words, she admits. She understands her views of him changed from the moment he pushed through the armed Alliance police escort to shake her hand, congratulating her for the work she had done taking down the Collectors and ensuring no more colonists were abducted. It was a relief to finally see someone on the outside finally _seeing_ that she wasn't just some insane woman prophesizing the end of existence.

It's because of his support that she admits the growing children in her belly, not starting to become overly obvious, are not from some one-night stand or affair. After all, this is a man putting his career and reputation, something he has spent _years_ acclimating at the cost of any sort of life outside of the military, on the line and teetering precariously before crashing down at a moment's breath, so she trusted him. She had to because, once time came for their birth, she'd need as many people on her side, protecting them from media and Alliance officials, alike.

To say he was shocked and skeptical would be downplaying his reaction, but he didn't completely dismiss her and, even better, didn't speak of it outside of himself, Jane, Jharen, and Garrus. Eventually he warmed up to the idea after talking with the Salarian doctor, and agreed that privacy wasn't just what they needed, but a secrecy they'd all take to their graves if necessary.

She did manage to find a reprieve from the stresses of having knowledge no one believed nor wanted to listen to in the most unlikely of places when out on the base grounds, within one of the parks meant for the families of the soldiers stationed there. Sure, she wasn't entirely alone with Vega as her permanent chaperon, but, after their ascent into friendship, he tended to give her space.

It all started when, one day, she met a young boy. Well, it was more like the little kid tripped over her feet as he ran by, too absorbed in whatever fantasy he had that enveloped the toy ship within his hand, but it brought them together all the same. Helping him up off the ground and holding his ship while he brushed off, she found that he easily opened up, despite his mother's – or babysitter, Jane wasn't sure – obviously recognition of her as the 'monster of Bahak'.

Dennis, she soon found his name to be, didn't even recognize her as his mother did, probably due to the round belly instead of the usual soldier's body so many of the vid reports tended to use, but he _did_ know of Commander Shepard. Oh, he knew about her, and, despite what everyone seemed to paint her as, he didn't believe a word. 'Shepard is a hero!' he'd claim with the widest grin, 'She helps people and they are all just stupid'. That would never cease to make her laugh, to hear someone so young be so blunt – and unintentionally _aware_ of the truth – and she'd always ask him why he saw this 'heroine' in such a light.

His reasons were numerous and always something new and different each time asked, but it was all the same, he blindly _believed_ that she was doing good, that her purpose was just, even if not in so many words. To be seen as something not just an idol for the power of her species or the potential of an Alliance soldier, but as someone whose actions were ultimately the best even when such a young child doesn't know the intricacies of what all she's done was both comforting and intimidating. She wasn't sure if she could still be the hero this boy saw in her or if she'd _want_ to carry that burden, but, some days, it helped her to not stare at the ceiling and question the worth of putting up the shit that was being thrown at her.

She gives Dennis the only souvenir she had from the Normandy, from her service upon the both vessels with the name, the model she had painted after her mate had built it up from nothing but flat pieces of thin metal and plastic. It doesn't hold any value to her but the idea that she's failing at the task she set out on and abandoned everything for, but he's ecstatic to have it, can't wait to 'fly' it around the park. As a bonus she hadn't expected, his mother no longer holds the fear in her eyes of Jane, but a silent thanks when she nods her head. _Hell, I'll take even one person, even outside the Alliance brass, on my side if just partially._

She doesn't see Dennis but through the window after that for various reasons. Some being as simple as the fact that her attendance upon her Justice hearing have risen in occurrence, which is troubling despite the fact that nothing _verbally_ is said in her presence, as well as with the Defense Committee at her own insistence, which was really more throwing tantrums until they relented, to the bigger issue of her identity being more easily recognizable now. Why? Well, someone in the Alliance is, once again, more focused on trivialities.

This time their complaints revolve around her imagine. Specifically, the scarring from her early waking in that Cerberus medical facility. 'Your image does not give the public the confidence that you are as innocent as you claim,' they would say as their eyes stuck to the slightly lit cybernetics under her skin, but what she really heard behind those words was clear enough; you are too ugly for people _not_ to see the monster the Alliance is trying to hide. With care for her personal appearance as there excuse – 'how can we convince people of your innocence if your image confuses and frightens them, Shepard?' is all she hears under their pretty words – they all but force her into a procedure to get rid of the scarring, using a special type of weave to fill and cover the cracks in her skin and fuse with her natural skin.

The new change doesn't help the slight glow to her eyes that comes and goes with her moods, but she can't find any reason to complain. She only has those and the scars beneath her clothes, out of the sight of prying eyes should she decide to wear anything but the stifling sleeves of a uniform to a military she no longer belongs to, to remind her that she isn't some plastic doll meant for the Alliance and media's amusement, a puppet prettied up to look nice as they pull her strings.

Not that her thinking actually takes away from the fact that that's all she's been for the most recent years of her official and nonofficial military career. She still finds it ironically amusing that, when she needed them, they were all too happy to assume no relation to her when she was acting to defeat the Collectors but, when they ever wanted something from her, whether to demand of her a task or _lay the blame_ on her, they are all too happy to claim her as part of the Alliance so they can charge and prosecute her.

She's close to the point of giving up, of throwing the entire farce of convincing the fucking idiots of _anything_ , when she walks into the apartment – cell – after a uselessly tiring day running in circles for the Committee and finds a very special surprise. Vega, obviously informed of the situation, hangs back at the door to leave her to find the note on the small, two person table she has bland meals on. Picking it up reveals a simple statement, _'Come find me.'_

Looking to the marine at the door gives no clues as to what the hell that's supposed to mean, but she does seem to pick up on the fact that whoever this 'me' is, they aren't expecting her to go outside. So, inside it is, but that doesn't really help either. She suspects that it must not be _bad_ if Vega isn't arming himself with something besides an annoying smirk, so she has only one option but to find whoever has the horribly scratchy handwriting – which is also suspicious because they wrote in Galactic Standard instead of Alliance Standard. _Wait a damn minute… only one reason someone would write in Galactic here in Vancouver._

Hoping beyond hope she's right, she rushes as best she can with her grown belly into the only other room in the apartment besides the main room she's in and Jharen's, hers, and there _he_ is. He's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen – not that she'd admit that for fear of sounding way too maudlin – standing there in a set of navy, almost black, casuals and a huge smirk on his face.

She would slap him for being so damn smug, so calm in the face of their reunion, but that's the moment her hormones – _those betraying bastards_ – kick into high gear and she cries – _cries! Dammit._ He is at her immediately, not saying a word as if in understanding as he kisses her, hungry and whining with her. Hands paw and knead in emotions she never let loose before but for a few times and the children within her move, kicking more fervently than the soft flutters of every time before and surprising her mate.

For the rest of the night, they make love in every way they can imagine, his hands never leaving her as he sings in his vocals to her and their children. She's unashamed when she lets her hormones carry her, crying against him at the love and devotion in his eyes and voice when he talks to them, then her. When their lovemaking takes to a slower, much more drawn out pace focused more on just _feeling_ the other, they speak of nothing but the other, of their future, of their children, and even of the names their son and daughter should bear. Neither of them sleeps and, when he must painfully leave, she relishes the soreness in her hips and groin from taking him so often after so long without him.

Sometime later finds her on her way to, yet another, call to attend a hearing from the Justice Board. Lately, they have been quiet about their decision to do _anything_ with her or just keep her in a limbo without freedom from accusations, but she's beyond the naivety of hoping it will mean any sort of good news. She just hopes it's not another do nothing call to appear only to not even be involved or, in her eyes, _needed_ to be in person because she's at the point she feels near to pop from the now fully active little shits within her that seem intent on breaking her spine.

It's because of her state that Jharen is at her heels through every step and Jane couldn't be happier for someone willing to take the brunt of her complaints and ire when in a particular mood. Sure, she doesn't necessarily need a reason to be particularly sour and pissed considering the circumstances, but she won't lie if she said she didn't like using the twins as an excuse. Jharen, for her credit, simply nods at each insult and rant of frustrated rage, listening without actually hearing, and, in its odd sort of way, it usually tends to calm the storm.

When they arrive at the Alliance's courthouse located on the base, Jane is surprised to see an even larger crowd than the usual horde of camera men and woman or more advanced reporters with their solo camera drones. There are even _more_ people hear than before and the soldier in her scans the crowd, seeing the rage and hearing the shouts of protesters even before she sees the signs they wave like flags.

'Monster! Murder! Harlet! Cerberus Whore!' they all say, or the ones she can see at a quick glance, anyways. Adrenaline begins to pump in her veins as the armed guard motion her from the transport and towards the doors, straight through the crowd, and she's, appallingly, frightened to move. Staring down Saren, Sovereign, the Collectors, and then Harbinger all mean nothing to the absolute terror of walking through a raging storm of angry, and frightened, people looking for anyone to blame for the confusion she's brought to Earth because, now, she has someone – _someones_ – to think of besides herself.

She cannot, however, remain where she is, not with the gently nudge at her back with a firm hand, so she moves. Like a condemned man walking to the gallows, she keeps her head low and hands unconsciously linked over her belly and shouldering the screams of insults thrown at her. The only answer to what's happening comes from the tumultuous questioning trying to reach her through her guard that she happens to catch.

'...now responsible for annihilation of entire Batarian people…' '…protecting you?' 'Does this mean war?' '…Cerberus involvement…' '…bastard, engineered child…'

On and on the questions fly as they, so it seems, fight through the waves of bodies, through the flung curses. They believe she's responsible for the Alliance preparing for war, that there will be war, and they're right, just not as they truly think. Blame is thrown at her feet along with blurs of objects, something hard hitting her in the temple and sending white through her vision before clattering to the floor. Beside her foot is a fist sized rock, the smooth surface stained with red that soon finds its match in the flow that floods down and into her eye, blinding her on that side temporarily and leaving her head with a pounding, ringing pain.

Meant to protect her the armed escort begin to shove through the crowd with their weapons in unvoiced threat, but despite their good intent, they don't manage to make the passage as fast as wanted. Feeling caged in, Jane's instincts kick in, screaming within her head to _Get the fuck out and away!_

She doesn't have the time to worry about the fallout of her actions, only the present outcome that she needs, as she glows bright in energy, surrounding herself with a glowing inferno before throwing it out around her. Everyone, from guard and raging crowd alike, are thrown back as she expends her entire reserve of power, leaving herself panting in rage and exhaustion, but no longer surrounded.

Her feeling of 'safe' doesn't last when she takes a few steps forward and stumbles at the crippling pain within her stomach, shooting up her spine and wiping her legs out from under her to send her to her knees. Crying out in utter fear, she starts to cry hot tears of panic as she reaches for Jharen in plea, praying to any god or entity that she only believes in in this moment that she hasn't done something unspeakable to the only thing she's ever wanted.

The time after is a blur, filled with panic and pain that has her screaming on the top of her lungs despite soothing words to try and relax. Somewhere along the way, she remembers being told of going to sleep just before darkness takes her, a darkness she's afraid of both entering _and_ waking from to find the truth of what's she's done. When she wakes, her head is pounding, her lifted hand revealing hidden stitches sealed with medigel over a nice gash on her left temple that should heal without marks, and her abdomen fills like she's been shot with shredder rounds.

"Holy fuck," she snaps, all manner of drugs to keep her down vanishing immediately as she claws at the sheets to see. Her blood runs cold and throat dry at the sight of a long incision across her belly just above the beginning of her pubic hair. Voice choking before releasing a shrill cry, she buries her head in her hands and gasps for breath between frantic, choking sobs that wrack her to the bone.

She doesn't hear the door opening nor the feet rushing to her side, doesn't feel the hands wrapping around her wrists to pull hers from her face. No, what she does finally feel is the hard slap against her cheek, snapping her out of her agony. Blinking reveals the smiling face of Jharen and, just as she's about to ask what the fuck she's so happy about, she hears the most beautiful thing she could have ever heard at that one moment.

Without ever hearing it before, she knows that high wail of a dual toned voice. That's a baby, _her_ baby, and a second sounds, as if in echo, she starts to cry once more, but in joy. Cries soon turn into breathless laughing as she wipes her face and sees the only two people she trusts on this whole damn planet, Vega and Anderson, bring her the two tiny little bodies of her children.

Covered in a soft down that will protect them until their plates are fully hardened, after which the 'fuzz' will fall off, and eyes still shut so soon after birth, it's nearly impossible to tell them apart. It's Jharen, however, once it is just the two women and two babies in the room that tells Jane how to tell them apart. "Since you can't smell the difference, just know that the girl has a nub here," she taps the back of her jaw, "And the boy, I've found, has 'spur' on inner feet."

Gently taking the offer to see, Jane watches as Jharen gently unwraps the baby she holds and holds his tiny foot in her hand, a tiny foot with three toes and a single, tiny bump on the center of the side of his foot. Despite those little hints, she decides she'll have to come up with some new ideas to tell them apart, so, laying them both in the bed beside her, she starts to touch them, caressing and, as result, warming and soothing them into stillness and sleep.

"This is the girl," she says after exploring, smiling as the runs fingers over each of their heads before taking the little hand of the one directly beside her, caressing the tiny five fingers with her thumb. "She doesn't have the ridges on her head… a fringe?" A look to Jharen gets her a nod and smile, as if the woman actually wanted her to discover for herself the differences, the genders, and she can't fault her for granting that experience. Hell, she thanks her for the opportunity to spend this moment with her children, bonding by learning every inch of their bodies.

Interestingly enough, it's not like she can just look between their legs because _apparently_ Turian plates don't open when their born or until puberty according to both Jharen _and_ her husband. Not that she had actually planned to attempt it, but it makes sense that they wouldn't evolve as humans do, exposing their reproductive organs to radiative every time they had to piss, if 'piss' is really a term for whatever they do from a cloaca.

Shaking her head from the distraction of so much she has still to learn, she chuckles and kisses her daughter's head. "Cassia, her name is Cassia." The Salarian doctor nods and pens it into the records as Jane runs her fingers gently over her son's bundled up chest, hearing his soft cuff in his sleep. "Our son's name is Damocles. Cassia and Damocles Vakarian." Looking up to the woman, she frowns. "Does Garrus know? Has anyone told him?"

"Yes." A bright Salarian grin. "Says he can't wait to see them, but I insisted he give them- and you - at least four weeks to heal and grow in strength enough for travel. He will either agree or not, either way I won't let him harm the babies. Too valuable to suffer impatience of a young father."

Jane laughs at that and nods in agreement, understanding the need to wait even if she wishes more than anything that he were here with her, holding her hand as they both hold their children through the night. It may hurt for them to be apart, may limit her from truly feeling complete joy without being able to share it with the father of her children, but she knows that, when they see again, they will make up for the lost time and experiences.

One thing she doesn't need to worry about is the twins' safety, not with a STG 'godmother', Alliance marine and Admiral 'uncles', and Savior of the Citadel mother looking out for them for the short four weeks they need to be ready to travel with their father, Archangel. That, in and of itself, sounds like a tale for some sort of sitcom, but, if that's what it takes to make sure nothing happens to them, Jane will accept whatever odd sort of help she can get to ensure _no one_ touches them.


	3. Chapter 3

-Jane-

Ever since the twins had been born, Jane was moved into a divided room within the Department of Defense's building on the Vancouver base that was redesigned into a makeshift living quarters. She knows Anderson throwing his weight around as well as Jharen's old STG skills are the only reason her children were secretly snuck into her quarters while still remaining a well-hidden secret. Who'd have thought the best place to keep her children was right under the noses of those who would have no problem selling them to some dark, twisted lab? After all, they have proven to have no conscious with their continuous attempts to throw Jane herself under the bus filled, it seems, with ever human on Earth.

One of the advantages of being in the same building as the Defense Committee was the ability to just walk right into the meetings whenever Jane pleased. Granted, she wasn't necessarily _allowed_ to do it, but it wasn't like they could imprison her any more than they had, so many times she was simply escorted back, but the point was made. _You cannot ignore me forever for I will not give up._

The disadvantage to when she actually managed to get an audience for however long they would listen before getting annoyed or tire of her 'company' was that she wasn't able to be with her children every second of every day. Sure, she had a _real, tangible, living and precious_ pair of reasons to continue to build up Earth's defense and offenses, but the continued failure wore her down. What was the point of leaving the babies with Jharen if she got nowhere with the hours upon hours of near pleas to be heard and understood?

Under a gray sky that often precedes rain, Jane has found herself too tired to want to try for an audience with the Committee, instead taking the time she has with her children. They are just beginning to use vocals, if a bit uncoordinated, and have lost all but a few tuffs of that feather-like filament, now replaced with the silvery plates of their father. Their eyes, too, are direct copies of one Garrus Vakarian, a light crystal blue that shines a silver-white in some light and deeper blue in others.

Oh, how she wishes her mate would hurry the hell up and take her from this horrible place she's learned to hate all over again, once as a spiteful, hurt child and now as a woman that sees how petty and shallow her kind really are. Hopefully he's already on his way, the period of healing for both their children and herself now over and even Jharen preparing to leave any day now.

Pulled from her thoughts and gentle playing with Damocles' feet to watch how his toes curl when she caresses a thumb over the undersides, she looks up to see Lieutenant Vega step in, grinning at the sight. "Always knew you were a softie, Lola."

He smirks and she narrows her eyes. "Any reason you walked into my room or are you here to see is my 'softness' includes bothersome Lieutenants?"

"Ouch," he says as he throws up his hands with a chuckle, dropping them with a drop of his humor. _Something 'official', then._ Frowning, he motions the door. "Come on. The Defense Committee wants to see you."

"Serious? They _want_ me?" As if summoned, Jharen comes from the more private section of the room where the beds and basic lavatory are within some sort of inner office. She takes the baby with her and the matching twin, not needing to be told to hide them as Jane gets up and rushes behind James.

The hall is in a constant flow of Alliance uniforms, from the recognizable soldiers from their brisk walk alone to those from the civilian sector. The latter she's used to in this building, but the former, in such a number, catches her attention. "What's going on? I miss something?" _Of course I miss everything locked up in that cell of a room for the last four and a half weeks._

"You know a grunt like me just gets pointed and told to fetch." She nods at that. Vega is, admittedly, one of the people who was disillusioned into thinking Commander Shepard had so much pull and importance, but his views on that quickly changed as he was forced to stand to the side and watch her, hopelessly, fight against the ever building tide. "All I was told was to get you _now_ , so it's gotta be important, no?"

Before she can add her own views on what the Committee tends to deem important, not really wanting to have been pulled out here to explain some news story about her she had _no_ control over or involvement in, a voice calls out through the crowd. Anderson, dressed in the Admiral blues that seem so scarce here on the base since Hackett called them away a few days ago.

"Admiral," she goes for professional around so many, the two weaving through the flow of oncoming or too slow personnel as Vega sticks to their back. If _he's_ lucky, he'll be able to see her off to the Committee alone and head back to the safety from the politics by guarding her room until called to escort her back. "What the fuck's got everyone finally off their asses?" _Well, somewhat professional._

"Hackett's mobilizing the Fleets." Lowering his voice, the man looks directly to her. "We've lost contact with our deep space outposts, but not before we got what hit them on the long range scanners… It's massive and heading our way."

"Just fucking, God damn, great." That gets a few heads towards her, but she doesn't care as they stomp up the steps. "Earth is going to pay for the Committee having their heads up their collective fucking asses and I've been grounded when _I could have done something._ "

"You weren't the only one talking to that same wall," a voice with a strained familiarity calls through the crowd as they draw closer to the Committee's chambers. Ashley Williams, the first of her crew to turn their backs on her despite the shit they went through, grew as a team from. It's been a long time, but, if the woman is willing to give Jane an ear to hear the _other_ side of the story, than she can give the woman a chance to become like the Williams she once trusted. "Good to see you again, Shepard."

"And you, Ash. N-7, I see," she motions the patch on the woman's armor with a smirk. "Congrats are in order, but I can't really buy you a drink under the house arrest." After an awkward nod in response, Jane is brushed off. _Can't say I didn't try. More than I usually do._

"I haven't been on Earth long. Just gave my reports to the Committee about my time stationed on the Normandy." It's more like she is addressing the Admiral and Jane is, once again, treated as if never there. First the Defense Committee and Justice Board treated her as nothing more than an unchained animal without a capability to speak for herself or actually know something worth knowing and now she has to suffer it from her own former crew, someone she trusted her life with on many occasions. "I don't know if anything made it through, but something's up, sir."

Nodding, Anderson motions Jane to follow. She hears something between the two they leave behind, but she's less worried about the occasional gossip and more with the looks on the Committee's faces as the two of them nearly storm into the chambers.

"Shepard. I believe it's time to cut the trivialities," one says as a datapad is handed to her, not even a glance being sent to it. She doesn't need to see some readings to know what's happening, she's been warning of this day for months – _years_.

"The reports are coming in are unlike anything we've ever seen. One by one, whole colonies have been going dark from our outer most and closing around the Sol Relay." The older woman, Councilor Townshend if Jane remembers from any one of the times she called each and every one of them a coward or idiot at some point, not sure when since there are so many instances.

"Whatever this is attacking our colonies, it's incomprehensibly powerful," another, Councilor Robben, adds.

Not caring to hide her ire, she tosses the datapad across the smooth, marble floor. "Looks like you fucking dumbasses finally get to see what the _fuck_ I've been warning you all about. And guess what? The Reapers are here with their dicks out and our pants are so far down our ankles they've buried themselves under our feet!"

"Shepard!" Robben snaps, scowling, but Jane can see the fear in his eyes, in all of their eyes. She's not ashamed to admit she can care less, long past fooling herself by claiming she doesn't despise her own people for their own stupidity.

"Please… tell us how to stop them…"

"You don't," she responds blatantly, making a good number flinch. "This isn't some known enemy in a familiar war, this is the fucking _end of the galaxy_ we're talking about. We are ants and the Reapers? They're the little bastards with the magnifying glass, watching us squirm to survive."

"There… has to be a way."

"Besides having gotten your heads out of your fucking assholes _before_ this day came?" Guilt fills the room as many of the people within refuse to look the angered red head in the eyes. _Good_ , she thinks, _let them fear my wrath for taking from me the chance to be with my mate when this day inevitably came._ "We fucking _survive_ at whatever cost. This isn't fighting to beat the Reapers, it's fighting to _live_ , to be the last one standing when the smoke clears. You want my help?" She scowls and points a finger that sweeps the lot of them. "You should have fucking listened. Now we will all pay with the lives of our people-"

"Sirs, we're getting reports that we've lost intergalactic communications-"

"The Relay? They can't be that close already," Anderson looks to her and she nods. Yes, they _can_ be that fast and with their entrance into the system, it's time they get to see firsthand how the Reapers sweep in, cut off communications, then attack and harvest their prey.

A tech with her hand to her ear, brows drawn down as she listens interrupts, loud enough for the entire room to hear and the words slowly still the hectic movement to a dead stop. "Just lost communications with Gagarin Station - wait… Communications blackout from For Charles Upham – no… Now Luna Base-"

Gasps and wide eyes throw around the room, faces of most noticeably going white. Jane isn't as surprised by the speed the Reapers overcame the Sol system, not with the proof of their technology she's both seen and _had within her own body_. She knows she should feel more for her people, for the oncoming danger, than the passing wish that she were somewhere much different, preferably on her own ship, her mate by her side, and children safely tucked away.

"How could they have gotten through our defenses? Travelled so fast?" The Councilor's voice is so weak, defeat on her breath. "It's… it's ungodly."

"We're receiving a transmission from the UK Headquarters, sir. They have a visual!"

Heads snap to the screen, all but Jane's. She exhales heavily, in regret at not pushing against the immovable and anger at never having the chance to, and looks up to the large, grainy picture. There isn't much but the muffled speech of a soldier as he orders the wearer of the helmet whose cam they are seeing through, but a sound she knows all too well cuts through just before the signal is lost.

That sound is something she's remembered since Eden Prime, when everything started and Sovereign took flight as Saren searched for the Beacon. It was, without doubt, a Reaper and herald to the beginning of the end.

"What do we do, Shepard?" She turns to the Councilor asking, Robben's eyes pleading as he leans against the desk, chair long since abandoned. "You know these… things better than any of us."

"What do you think?" she answers, pointing to the screens of worldwide news reports that are grainy and distorted, but all show them enough – the Reapers have already begun wiping out humanity. "You just going to lay down and take it? Because I will be _damned_ before I just let the fucking Reapers take me. Fight. Or die."

Her scowl and truth of their absence in the time to protect and prepare cows them, heads dropping from her gaze. She'd spend the rest of their short lives making sure they knew their gravest fault, but she has much better, something to take more pride in than the final word. Turning to Anderson, she asks, "Where's my damn ship?"

He motions to follow as she opens her tool, telling Jharen to be 'ready as of yesterday with my fucking kids' through her tool as they nearly run to the door. That is, until a shadow falls over the floor, in a shape she knows all too well. Cutting through the overcast, long legs leading a long, sleek body reveal themselves with that same, thundering roar only made by the synthetic monstrosities.

She has a moment to realize what will happen, yet too slow to react accordingly, as the, at the apex of the large legs, a bright red begins to materialize and grow. When it reaches its peak, the entire sequence mere moments, it is released, sweeping the ground and coming right towards them.

Her shout to move their asses is drowned out by the deafening roar and screams of shattering glass and the crashing of the entire forward section of the chamber as the energy cuts through all before it, bringing the room down around it. Not much comes after that but darkness and a thunder that almost sounds like it has a pattern.

"-ard!"

 _God, that Reaper is annoying,_ she thinks, wishing they couldn't speak Standard and be bothering her as she lays under the weight of her failure. _It can't even be quiet when it rubs it in my face that I can't save my own children-_

"No!" she shouts as she snaps up, looking around in a panic. She's in the Committee chambers, or what's left of it, and sees Anderson running to her. Not needing his help, not with the adrenaline in her blood, she nearly jumps to her feet, grabbing his tattered shirt. "I need to get my kids and get to my fucking ship. Take me!"

She doesn't wait for him to agree or lead as she runs out, following the path they took to get here. Panicked Alliance personnel don't seem to know what to do, the civilians trying to rush to the exits for evacuation as the few trained individuals try to keep order. Catching the eyes of them means nothing to her, will never mean more than her own and she holds no shame in admitting that. Hell, she even shoves a pair of scared young girls out of the way as she sprints through them, they being too slow to get out of her way.

Running through the halls, the living thins to become the dead and critically injured. 'Halls', too, is a forgiving term for the near collapsed area and, with each step, her blood gets colder and colder until it is nothing but ice in her veins. _This can't happen. I can't lose them… not now. Not when I might never see **him** again. I can't lose everyone I love._

Her prayers to a God-like entity she doesn't believe in seem to go unheard as she, instead of the soft chirps and warbles of baby talk, hears the pained moans of Husks come from where _her_ room is. Climbing over the rubble, her fists tighten in a fire of blue at the sight of them clawing at the half ajar door, one occasionally getting close to climbing through.

If she cannot do anything about her hellish situation, then she can at least take out her pain and anger on the enemy. Glowing, she walks right up to them, grabbing the one trying to claw the door by the back of the head and slamming it hard enough against the door to splatter thick fluids up and over the metal with a sickening crack. The Husk currently halfway through the door receives a hand wedged into its back, and then loses a mechanical spine.

Her rage controls her as she slams the doors open and turns red, glowing eyes on the small pack circling around a collapse in the walls. Anderson's weapon fire disappears in the sound of the blood pumping in her ears as she charges one, grabbing another and using her energy to shove it onto a broken piece of the metal that juts into a sharp point. Another loses the Reaper tech in its abdomen, black cording mixed with what must have been human organs falling to the ground before its body follows. The third loses its jaw when it turns on her, hissing moan turning into a gurgle as she rips the permanent scream apart. The husk regains its jaw when she shoves it back into its eye, destroying whatever tech controls its motor movements, and renders it useless. Anderson drops the last with a nonlethal shot, the damn thing moving too much as it claws at the rubble, but its skull easily caves under her glowing boot.

Screaming, she grabs her head, not for the pounding headache with so much expended energy, but in sheer agony. This can't be it, she can't have lost them. The Admiral is a smart man, he doesn't touch her, but instead runs to the rubble and tries to dig for whatever the Husks where after.

"Shepard! Snap out of it, dammit. There's something here."

She's panting and trembling, but does come down enough at his sharp tone to look at what he's doing. Falling to her knees, she starts to clear the area around the biggest piece of fallen metal from the walls, frantic to find her children, even…even if they haven't survived.

Piece by piece starts to reveal husks beneath the debris, as if under when it collapsed. Were she in a better place to think, she'd realize that's impossible for there to be Reaper thralls beneath the wreckage of the blast, but it goes unnoticed. When they reach a sort of pocket against the far wall, one that has not fallen completely closer to the ground, they find her, they find Jharen, her closest friend during this entire fucking nightmare on Earth these past months.

 _But… where are my babies?_ She reaches towards the woman in agonized terror, the woman's face battered and usually clean lavender and white clothes stained with blood. A gasp and crack of one eye, the other covered in blood and swollen beyond use, comes from the supposed 'dead' Salarian as she weakly reaches for Jane's hand.

"Cre…creatures… came for… protected… collapsed wall…"

"My children, please." She doesn't care that her voice is weak, pleading in a way she'd be ashamed of if not for three people.

"Safe…" She smiles weakly before coughing a wet gurgle, even more blood glistening from her mouth and pooling around her. Laying her only mobile hand on a strange, crate-like bag. "Incubation… transporter… babies fit…"

Blinking back tears, Jane leans closer and gently opens the bag, the lid actually heavier than thought. Inside are her two little babies, too small by human standards, but large for Turian – any larger than their thirty four and a half centimeters and they wouldn't fit. It's certainly not luxurious, but it saved them, _Jharen saved them._

"J… Jharen," she gasps as she looks to the woman who gave her life for this, for her children, and sees the pride in the other's face. Taking the hand that reaches, she squeezes, vowing to remember this woman, make her name known for her actions. "Thank you."

"…Was," she coughs, voice and grip weakening, "Pleasure… beautiful… babies…" The three fingered hand in hers relaxes, only held up by Jane's hold as the last, wet breath leaves Jharen's lungs. Squeezing one last time in thanks, she puts her friend's hand in her lap and uses her palm to close her one eye.

"I will remember you, Jharen. May you find all the babies you could ever want," she says as she gently takes the heavy carrier from the woman's lap, climbing out from under the rubble that managed to stay balanced. Anderson's head is down in silence when she comes to him, motioning her children, who are both huffing and churring in the start of a, very loud, crying session that she can't really stop, so they'll have to bear it. "I need you to take them. No offense, but I've seen battle with these things, and it's been awhile for you. I need you to protect my babies while I get us to the Normandy."

He nods and takes them without pause, shouldering the large carriage with less effort than herself. Heading down the hall towards the spaceport comes with less battle than expected, probably due to most of the Reaper forces being dropped outside and having to find their way in, even if it does nothing to stop the loud, piercing wails coming from the bag strapped over Anderson's chest.

They have a good opportunity in this to get out fast, only having to take out a few small forces of… something new. Whatever this new creature is, it has the face that makes her see what truly happened to the Hegemony. These things are made from Batarians, monstrosities that harvest from their fallen kind when injured or not eliminated quick and efficiently.

Their numbers are even greater when they have to enter the fray outside in order to get into a defensible position where the Normandy can pick them up, the spaceport quickly becoming unsafe before they even got close and leading Williams and Vega, who had made it in better time, to take to the air. They find a location with the harbor at their back – _ignoring the giant Reaper back there too, but, hey, not like it'll see two tiny humans and decide to stomp us out under a single foot_ – and a downed gunship with a working distress beacon.

Only option is to take this opportunity, so Anderson doesn't hesitate to activate it as Jane gives a glance to her children, still screaming in protest to, most likely, everything that doesn't include a warm crib and some of that mushy meat paste they love, but all together 'okay'.

The distress beacon seems to alert the forces in the area, the two quickly throwing themselves into cover. With the carrier at his feet behind his well-placed cover, the Admiral is occasionally able to throw out supporting fire, but he knows to rather stay undetected until she attracts field's entire attention. _I guess this is one of the times where it's the perfect reason for being a Vanguard._

The waves of falling Reaper deployments never seem to be at an end and she's running low on ammunition, always reminding herself to, at least, save three bullets for if they manage to break through and corner her and Anderson. She's not going back to the Reapers, not waiting around to see what will happen to her after Harbinger showed such interest with her months ago. No, she just needs three bullets to ensure the Reapers don't get her and her babies while still alive and aware of the pain and hell they'll endure.

Luckily, for once, before it comes to that, the Normandy flies over head, as if saving _her_ at the last moment as it has for so many others. The husk creatures are no match to the secondary weapons of a frigate as it flies overhead and circles around to their six.

"Here," he says as he hands her the carrier. "About time they got here."

She nods in agreement as she quickly shoulders the babies, abandons her useless weapon, and holds the carrier to her as she runs for the Normandy under covering fire. When she jumps onto the ramp, she gently tightens her hold on the screaming bag in apology for the jarring movement and turns, seeing that the Admiral hasn't taken the small leap.

Instead he stands there, just looking up to her before he lets his eyes follow an Alliance shuttle moving in to evacuate civilians. "I'm not going. Look around you, Shepard. There are millions of soldiers just like those we saw and they need someone to lead them, to show them true resistance against an unbeatable enemy."

"You're going to get your fucking ass killed."

"Then let's hope you get the help we need to win this before that happens. Get out there, get the other species to rally their forces, because this isn't a human war, it's a _galactic_ war." He steps closer to the ship and motions the bag in her arms, the noise within starting to get odd looks from everyone but James, who knows well the deafening capabilities of those twins. "If we are even to have a chance, you need the Council. Make them listen and convince them to help us… or we all pay the price." Drawing his brows, he grows stern. "Now get the hell out of here, Commander." A slight smile cracks, certainly to try and lighten the mood. "We'll get you tags later."

 _So this is how I'm reinstated? I guess it's not like anything is normal concerning me anymore, so it fits,_ she thinks as she nods. "Good luck," she offers as she starts to step deeper into the ship. _You're going to need it._

"Same to you, Shepard."

Had she been anyone else, she might have felt compelled to salute, but those years are long past and, she ponders as the ship begins to lift, she isn't sure she wanted to revisit them so soon, not after the shit she went through trying to prevent the magnitude of this destruction. As it is, she watches as the man doesn't salute either, the two too tired and beaten by formalities after these long months, and instead simply waves a hand in a military gesture that usually means 'split up', but the point gets across.

Earth is where her fighting has begun and it will be where the biggest battle of them all will later end.

As slow as the Normandy lifts, trying to remain undetected and able to avoid colliding debris, she can still see those trying to evacuate the base. One of those evacuees, she's afraid to see, to acknowledge as one of those innocents caught in a war, is Dennis, the Normandy model still clung in his hands as his mother ushers him towards the shuttle. She nearly shoves him towards it, the Alliance officer lifting him by his waist quickly before his mother follows, the last two as the hatch closes.

It happens fast, too fast to do anything but watch knowing the outcome. A Reaper more equipped for land warfare than the towering Dreadnoughts sights the shuttles and turns, the hull over the center of its main body lifting and shifting to reveal a massive cannon. None of the shuttles survive the blast and it hits with a reality that, once again, she has lost someone that managed to get close to her.

With trembling knees and clenched fists, she stumbles into the bay, dropping to the ground against a crate and shoving open the carrier. Her children's cries turn heads, but she doesn't care as she hugs it tightly to her with knees and arms, the shield built within it easily protecting her babies from any real pressure, and drops her head, swallowing her emotions and trying to calm enough to think.

How can she protect anything, anyone, if she could not convince them to protect themselves? How is she to make those who don't believe _see_ when those who support her are so fragile? How will the image of _me_ affect this war? Will it destroy my efforts because of those who paint me as a monster or will my actions on the Citadel all those years ago redeem me?

What kind of monster selfishly brought _children_ into this?


	4. Chapter 4

-Jane-

"Ashley needs medical attention. The Citadel is our best chance, we can find help-"

"No," Jane snaps at the new Shadow Broker, making Liara blink in confusion. "The Citadel can be a few days travel with the Reapers and possible rush of people looking for refuge." Looking up, she calls out through the ever listening AI. "Joker, alert the Fleet and get coordinates for the closest Alliance medical vessel. Tell them we have a critically injured Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams."

"Understood, Commander."

"Liara, you and EDI figure out whatever you can from _that_ fucking thing." She motions the synthetic that Vega unceremoniously drops onto another of the exam tables. That thing beat the shit out of her fellow N-7 like she was nothing but a doll, cracking open and nearly shattering her helmet as if it wasn't made of metal and ceramic, but glass and tissue paper.

"Shepard," Liara says as she gently tries to patch up William's facial wounds without jarring her more than Jane's completely _wrong,_ given the nature of the injury, but unavoidable haul into the ship on their escape from the Archives. "We should have the information from the Cerberus machine by the time we reach the Citadel, be able to show it to the Council. They _have_ to help."

"Again, no." She finally removes her helmet. "I'm not wasting time going to the Citadel to be drowned by politics when you can assure me you'll have that data, not when _my husband_ is out there." Shaking her head, her fingers tighten on her helmet. "No, we go to the Apien Crest as soon as the Alliance has Ash. Whatever we can ask the Council, we do it over the QEC. Besides, I already know their answer won't be any different from everyone else's until we have something solid, _if_ their views ever change."

The Asari woman moves to speak, but sees the look on the Commander's face and simply nods. _Good, let her know that I'm tired with being pushed around to fit other's agendas when there's a damn war going on._

"EDI, contact Concilor Udina and tell him we need an immediate meeting with the Council over the QEC concerning the Reaper invasion." With the affirmative, Jane gives a nod of both dismissal to James and a sort of 'good luck' to T'Soni with whatever she will try with the Cerberus droid and heads towards the Comm Room.

Surprisingly, whatever EDI managed to tell the Councilor about her request for an audience must work as she doesn't have to wait long before she receives answer. Not only that, but she actually gets to speak with them, no waiting on the list for attendance or jumping through flaming hoops. Damage must be bad for one of their own species if they have such a fire under their asses.

"As I said, Councilor," the connection cuts in mid-objection from Councilor Sparatus, "The Reapers are in our space, as well. Earth is no more or less important than any Council homeworld."

"It doesn't matter if our homeworlds burn, they are only planets." Her interruption works to get their attentions. "They have started with Earth, but soon they will move their full force onto the next. By then, the galaxy's numbers will be too thin and we will have lost before we could ever put up a fight."

"Commander Shepard," Valern responds. "Do you care to tell us why we had to contact _your_ ship instead of you requesting attendance as per protocol?"

"How about because we're in the middle of a fucking war?"

"And you think that puts you in a position to request the Council to cater to you?" The Turian's growl is nearly audible. "Don't act like humanity is the only race to have lost ground. All communications have been lost from the Apien Crest, _my people_."

"That's why we must fight this enemy together!"

Like the balancing force she has always seemed to be, Tevos interrupts to break up the argument. "Councilor Udina, please calm yourself. Each of us faces a similar situation. Even now, the Reapers are pressing on our borders. If we lead humanity our strength to help Earth, then our own worlds will fall."

Frustrated, she takes a deep breath and hopes Udina will shut up long enough for her to speak, to try and 'be reasonable'. "This isn't about Earth or 'worlds', it's about wanting to live. Think about planets later because the Reapers sure as hell aren't here to claim our resources, they are here _to wipe us out_." She looks to Sparatus, hoping that, even though they don't get along, he can see reason in military strategy. "Their strength is that they will divide and conquer, so we must join, or die."

Against all odds, he looks right back, eyes, even in a projected image, scanning her. "If we unite our fleets, do you really believe it can stop the Reapers?"

"We have found data in the Prothean Archives on Mars and are translating it now. It's some sort of weapon from what we've already translated." _Please listen to me, have fucking faith instead of needing your proof before a decision, before losing more people to your indecisiveness._

But it doesn't work and, like so many failed attempts before, they dismiss her, telling her that their own worlds are more important and, as she stands there with her hands clenched so tight around the rails that either they or her gloves, or maybe even her bones, creak, she wonders why she tries, why she fights. It isn't about sacrificing humanity to protect themselves - that'd be too easy a solution- it's about protecting their numbers before they are overwhelmed and, with humanity gone and the Hierarchy to follow, it will only mean a slow, gradual death for the galaxy, like a boulder rolling down the hill after that first hard push.

Hearing the whirring and clicks of cut connections, Jane sighs and leans her elbows against the rail, head in her hands and fingers clenching into her hair tightly, the pain the only thing keeping her rage at bay. No matter what she does, she is trapped between death and politics, the latter slowly pushing her back against the ledge that rises above the over, her feet disturbing the smallest of pebbles over the edge as she fights to keep balanced.

"Fuck… fucking blind fools," she whispers, defeated at the fact that this might very well be the last she will ever hear of a 'unified galaxy'. "Why can't you just _believe me_ for once in your lives and stop fearing the unknown?"

"Because our people are scared, Shepard," a voice says that snaps her head up, not scared per say, but surprised she lapsed on her awareness of possible eavesdroppers. She blinks at the blue, flickering image of the Turian Councilor, his nod a sort of acknowledgment to move past the words not meant for anyone but herself. "You must understand we are only trying to look out for our people the best we know how."

"The old ways won't work for this, Sparatus, and you know it."

"True," he agrees with a nod. "But I can't give you want you need, not in my position, but I know how you can get it." She nods in 'go on' and he rumbles audibly. "The Council is but a representative of our people to the galactic community, but we hold no real power over our people as an individual entity. That's why you must go _around_ the Council, appeal to each species' direct governing bodies with your plea. Primarch Fedorian has called a war summit amongst the direct leading bodies of Salarian, Asari, human, and Turian governments." With a pointed look, he adds, "I can only assume your mate would have direct influence in such an unconventional summons given his position with the Primarch himself."

This, she can tell from the change of his posture, is where the 'but' comes in, and she knows it involves Garrus, just _knows._ Why else would the Councilor bring him up in a situation where he is not berating her? Why not save that as ammunition for one of their shouting matches unless it has a point?

"Unfortunately, we have lost contact when the Reapers hit the Apien Crest. Last we heard, Praetor Vakarian was transporting him out of the system to get him into safety for the summit when they were forced onto Menae. We do not know of their current situation, but we know that the meetings cannot happen without his attendance." He stops and looks up into her eyes, making a strange sort of sound most likely distorted by the less than completely QEC connection from the half-complete retrofit. "Your ship is the only one that can enter the system and extract Primarch Fedorian undetected, but I have a suspicion you were already destined there."

At that, she doesn't care to hide her smirk to confirm his words. "And you'd be correct. I guess it's lucky I didn't waste time heading to the Citadel and have set course."

"Indeed. It seems your abnormally strong connection with your mate may have actually benefited your efforts." Not sure if he's trying to insinuate something or simply stating an observation, Jane just shrugs. Let the galaxy think what they will. "There is one more thing." He opens his tool, her own glistening on her wrist as something is sent through the intergalactic communications system. "The Council has agreed to reinstate your Spectre status. You now have the resources and authority as you once had as Spectre. Good luck, Shepard."

With that, he finally closes the call, leaving Jane within a quiet and dark comm room. She takes a minute to think, to try to understand what just happened. It's not as surprising to see that someone has seen reason, it had to have happened some time, but to finally have her own desires lead her in the same direction as the pull of the universe's inability to take care of itself is something she hasn't thought possible.

Could it actually be that her decision to convince Garrus to take back to Palaven all those months ago may really pay off? That, for once, their separation may be responsible for giving them a fighting chance in this war? And, above that, that _he's_ responsible for saving their asses as if they had a physic draw to help the other?

"Shepard," EDI calls through her thoughts. "Lieutenant Williams has successfully been transferred to an Alliance medical vessel. Would you like me to tell Jeff to head for Palaven?"

"Yes, EDI. And tell him I'm coming for my kids." Heading out through the War Room, she goes for the one place she thought her son and daughter save given the nature of being on a ship without anyone she can truly trust.

Sure, dropping them on Joker wasn't exactly the first choice given the fact that the very Normandy lays in his hands _while also_ needing to tend to two tiny hybrids, but she wasn't in the place to be picky. She's already having to settle with knowing she doesn't have anything close to the supplies her children need, and that she's taking a risk not heading directly to the Citadel like Liara suggests, but she _can't_ just turn her back on her mate, on the one she loves.

They promised they would always find one another, let the gravitational pull guide them, and if he doesn't have a stealth ship like the Normandy, than it's up to her to find him. Even though her chest aches at the thought of not yet receiving a message of reassurance from him, she knows he's alright, that a simple downed Corvette would do nothing more than scuff his armor.

"Ah… there's the mommy herself," Joker says with a smirk as she storms into the cockpit, going straight for the carrier strapped into the co-pilot's seat. "Come to rescue uncle Joker from babysitting duty?"

Seeing them both fast asleep, she smiles and undoes the straps holding the heavy bag from the seat. "What'd they do while I was gone?"

"Sleep, sleep, and, oh, sleep. I gotta tell you, they're more boring than I imagined." He looks at her from the corner of his eye, still focused on navigating the ship. "Here I thought they'd take after at least _one_ of their parents."

She snorts at that and shoulders the bag, turning to him. "Thank you for watching them, even if it was just to sleep. I owe you." Smirking, she adds, "And here I was worried you'd do something I'd have to kill you for."

"Yeah, leave the cripple to watch the babies with softer bones than even me," he responds with a sigh, but Jane can tell from the moment she had asked him that he took it as a show of their friendship even she hadn't expected went deep enough to be asking for 'babysitting duties'. "You more than _owe_ me."

"Say it and it's done, Joker," she calls out as she leaves, heading down the CIC with her precious cargo hidden neatly under the hood of the carrier. The ride up the lift gives her a chance to reopen the bag and reach in, caressing their mandibles with a gentle finger and chuckling when they chirp out a purr each, unconsciously flapping the tiny appendages.

Her cabin isn't as she left it, panels missing where the crew was in the midst of remodeling it to Hackett's needs, but she pays no mind as she goes to the bed, at least still the same. Perhaps they hadn't yet gotten to removing the Turian designed bed – _or perhaps the Admiral has some secret admiration for Turian furniture no one knows about_ – but she doesn't mind. It only saves them the hassle of getting a new one when Garrus comes back on board.

It takes a few moments to strip down to her undersuit, but the lack of the armor on her shoulders after so long makes her sigh aloud, rolling the sore limbs. Mars was hell, the sand buried deep into her hair and the cracks of her armor, but she'll tend to it later, once her children are finally free of that damn carrier and on some nice beds, so equivalent.

Sitting down on the bed, Jane takes two pillows, the softest she can, and presses a shallow curvature in the middle of each. Next, she gently removes her sleeping daughter, soothing her squeak of annoyance at the move.

"Easy little one," she whispers as she cradles Cassia to her chest, watching the tiny fingers try to latch to the fabric and only managing to paw with a huff of assumed defeat. Jane snorts and opens the pouches of the bag, hoping for something, anything, to tide the babies over until she can manage to get to the Citadel or some other station that will have Turian baby food.

Tending to them even now, she finds supplies buried within every pocket and wedged into every nook and cranny that Jharen must have put there for them. It makes her frown to see just how much the woman cared for her odd family, packing so much care into one not so small carrier that can last them the long trip between here, Palaven, and, hell, even Tuchanka if she so chose.

She knew Jharen said she had packed in anticipation for Garrus' arrival and Jane's resulting break out of custody, but she hadn't expected the extent she'd go. Beyond all comprehension, she managed to back enough food, more food than they could have ever possibly had and must have been from an order meant just for this, and clothes, including the cute little cloths she was supposed to use as Turian style diapers. Overwhelmed, she has to stop from unpacking the outer pockets of the bag and just… stop.

So much was left unsaid between her and the Salarian woman, of how much her support and care meant, even if it started as just a doctor and patient that turned deeper. She only knew that Jharen would be the first of many that she will lose before this war was even close to being over, before the Reapers where nothing but a past fear turned cautionary tale.

Her melancholy soon ends with the chirping smacks of both of her, now awake, children signaling their need to feed. Like always, they have a way of making her forget every stress she's under, a trait they definitely got from their father despite the fact of their infancy. No, these three people in her life, she knows, will be the real things that determine her fate in this war.

She feeds and tends to Cassia first, her beautiful daughter so much easier to put to rest than her fussy brother who _demands_ attention and care more than the entire galaxy. Once Damocles is put down, his sniffling trills quickly soothed with soft brushes of her knuckles over the top of his scalp – _just like his dad with his weakness of passing out with soothing caresses over the top of his fringe –_ she undresses, showers, and takes to laying down beside them. Despite her doubt she'd ever be able to manage it with the stressors running through her head, she finds her eyes closing, her breathing easing to match her two companions, and sleep taking her into its embrace.

* * *

She knows this place, has come to understand that it is death, the piece of it that remained within her, a piece that Cerberus could not erase no matter how many cybernetics or drugs they pumped into her system. It has taken her months of sleepless nights trying to avoid this place before she realized it's meaning, it's purpose.

She must learn that which is inevitable, that all must die and cannot just… leave.

Something now adds to the fog of this place and, when she looks up, she feels the soft flakes of ash land upon her cheeks that fall from the shadows of towering figures as they walk on their multiple legs. They are silent as they move, void of the loud thunders of their calls, their cannons dark and even their steps muffled by the fog that shades them from complete visibility. To see them in this world, moving above the buildings but not through, as if a conjunction of their world and hers as they seem to glide overhead, their feet never touching the ground because her vision has never stretched beyond mere meters before her.

Knowing how this reality works and no longer wanting to resist the unfaltering magnetism, she walks until she comes upon a small patch of earth filled with dark trees. Such a place shouldn't exist amongst the tall buildings, one even split down the center as if this patch of woods just dropped down into existence, but she's long since questioned the logic and realism of death.

The fog pushes her deeper into the forest, behind her closing in until there is nothing but trees for all directions and fog beyond and rolling over the ground. She can still see the figures moving above her through the trees, but they seem less interested in her than she them, so she turns forward, following the sound of joy that shouldn't belong.

Stepping into a clearing, as if an intruder, shadows become images, images become recognition, and recognition brings panic and fear. Playing, laughing, and dancing hand in hand are _children_ and, when the leaves rustle under her feet, they look up to her, three sets of eyes, one human and two not.

"You… you can't," she whispers as she draws near, the two holding hands taking flight into the woods. "Wait! Please, come back!"

"Can you catch them?" Dennis looks up to her, a smile on his lips, but missing in his eyes, as he goes back to playing, waving his battered Normandy in the air. "You always have to catch them."

"C…catch them?"

At his nod, she takes off running, trying to chase the laughter and giggling, hoping to keep up with little Turian legs. This can't be happening, she can't be seeing _them_ here, not in the land of the dead, of those long passed from the land of vivid life.

She ignores the shadows reaching for her, whispering long remembered endearments and promises, hunting for the boy and girl. Stumbling back into the clearing, she only hears their laughter as taunt, teasing in their game of hide and seek, and she only finds the young boy lost on Earth playing along in the fog with his ship.

"Please…," she pleads as she collapses at his feet, gripping onto his shoulders with wide, desperate eyes. "They can't be here… they don't belong here. Please… don't let this place take them…"

His face shows nothing but sadness, does nothing but return to playing when her hands fall from him, her body falling to her knees as she chokes on her emotions, trembling. Looking around, trying to decipher through the fog, she gasps out weak sobs, not knowing what this place _wants_ , why it would torture her, punish her for leaving, by taking _them_.

"Mommy?"

Her head snaps to the edge of the trees, to the two little figures standing there. Both are a silver gray, their bright blue eyes looking through their confused expressions at her fallen in the damp, decaying leaves. She wears the most beautiful little white dress, its hem tattered and dirty from her play, and he, in her exact opposite just like babies, wears dark, dirt stained shorts and a black tunic with scuffs where he wipes his little, five fingered hands.

Gone is the little boy from Earth, leaving only her within the clearing as she weakly climbs to her feet. Her legs feel held down by the fogs fingers and each step nearly drops her to her knees, but she struggles forward, needing to 'catch' them. If she can do that, then she can save them from this place, can save them from the cold, greedy grasp of death.

She reaches out when she draws close, heart breaking that they do not reach back. Her whole body trembles, exhausted not from the fight through the thickness of fog and trees, but from the toll this nightmare has taken, and she begs to _please, just please don't do this, don't take away my babies._

With a loud roar, a sound that sends tears down her ash stained cheeks, she watches as the woods are engulfed in flames, bright red and raining down from the dark gods from above she has angered. She screams and falls to her knees as she can see nothing but the raging inferno before her and fog wrapped around her like a suffocating cocoon.

 _They are gone!_ She wails, screaming her anger and agony up at the indifferent figures above moving within the fog and threes. She sobs and shrieks until her voice is hoarse, until her eyes burn with soot and her lungs burn, her heart already shattered like glass into pieces that will never mend.


	5. Chapter 5

-Garrus-

Menae was a hellish nightmare.

It stunk of ash, dust, spent weapon's fire, and, more than anything, the fresh scent of blood and death. The mist that wafted across the ground was no atmospheric phenomenon, but the smoke of burning outposts, and the resulting steam of the fire in the chill air, and the remnants of the charred and dying remains of fallen vessels, one of which was his own. All of it, every last echo of gunfire or agonized wail meant nothing to the eeriness of looking up and seeing a planet, _his_ planet, engulfed in flames that turn what was once a beautiful shimmering blue planet into the unworldly reds and oranges of destruction.

Primarch Fedorian was gone, lost to the crash, and, with him, his own idea on how to accomplish this grand army that would be needed to fight this war. The crash had thrown all of them, killing some while critically injuring others, and the Primarch had suffered a blow to the head that left him unable to crawl from the wreckage when the engine's secondary fuel caught fire.

What Garrus was supposed to do now that he didn't have his political ammunition for this war, he didn't know. All he _did_ know was that he had to get a signal out, a communication that could reach the Normandy, and alert _her_ to where he was. After all, they promised to do this together and, with the Reapers practically kilometers away from his position, it was definitely time his mate come in with the Normandy's engines roaring.

It's a goal he can focus on right now, right here, to forget the destruction overhead and all around. He can't let himself be dragged down by the crippling feeling of not doing enough and of doing too much, too much that it took him away from the one place he had sworn to be when this inevitable war began. So, instead of beating himself up over the fact that he's in the wrong place at the _very wrong time_ , he works at trying to repair the communications tower for General Corinthus, at trying to find the new Primarch for when Jane arrives looking for them, knowing it's the only logical step to ensure the Hierarchy's alliance.

His relocated shoulder pain, a dull ache that pulsed with his pulse, and most likely broken wrist added to the slight concussion he was sure to have from the crash wasn't helping with his repair of the tower. Luckily didn't have to worry of being swarmed as a small team of soldiers covered his six, plowing through the human husks as they climbed up the face of the cliff.

Soon, he is able to jury rig the comm tower to bypass the jamming signal and get it operational. He doesn't know how long it will last or how far it will reach, but he radios to Corinthus of its repair just before sending a message of his own. His only wish is that, wherever she is, she will receive it and, hopefully, it will help ease some of her fear of his current situation.

_'_ _Jane, I am on Menae. Don't forget you promised I get to press the big red button on the Reapers, so come find me. I love you and can't wait to see our children. – G'_

"Praetor Vakarian," The General says over the comm just as Garrus drops a husk from his sniper perch atop the communications tower. "I have received the information you need from Palaven Command," he seems to hesitate a moment before adding, "And you might want to return ASAP."

He rumbles in confused curiosity at the tone of the man's voice, but doesn't question him on it as he slides down the ladder. He leaves Sergeant Bartus and his men to hold the tower and heads into the encampment, hearing a voice he hasn't heard but in his dreams for the past few months and smirking at her tone of impatience he's missed just as much as the rest of her.

"Look, I don't care who the fuck it is. Just give me someone without their head up their ass who can get us to the Primarch and the Turian resources we need!"

There she was, standing there in all her beautiful, deadly glory, her hair glowing from the fires of Palaven at her back. He knows he shouldn't see the beauty in that, but it's only now that he sees what Ilden's nickname for her truly means – Kissed by Fire, and kissed she truly was, both in image and attitude.

Shaking off the awe of seeing her in her secondary persona of the hell-bent vanguard of the battlefield, he smirks and says, "Then I guess it's a good thing you _know_ just that someone."

Her head snaps to him, eyes widening as she grins, and they move towards the other. Feet speed the closer they get until they crash together, their armors clacking together as he wraps her in his arms, lifting her in the air against his bigger frame. Cupping the back of her head, he presses his plates to her lips roughly, heart speeding at her whined moan as she opens.

Their tongues tangle in front of a crowd of on looking soldiers and Jimmy, her second and only squad member as if she _knew_ the two of them would find each other. He doesn't care to be bothered at the questioning vocals from those older than him at the blatant disregard for the separation between personal and professional lives, this is his who knows what number reunion with his mate.

Jimmy clears his throat before rubbing his forehead in embarrassment. "Uh, you guys aren't going to do the _whole_ reunion thing, right?"

Jane chuckles with him as she pulls back enough to hug him, her warm breath against the hide of his neck making him shiver. "Easy, James. That comes later," she says up to Garrus with a smirk, her eyes lacking the heat, replaced with the bright happiness and love he only gets to see in their private moments. "And here I thought I'd have to go out and hunt your bony ass down, Vakarian."

"Decided to, what is it, take what you've once said to heart?"

She crosses her arms and lifts a brow. "You can't shoot worth a damn if you're staring at my ass through your scope all damn day?"

"More like 'take the fight to them'," he corrects before shrugging, "but I may have paraphrased." He takes her chuckle and eye roll as a victory before turning to the General, the man's mandibles clamping shut and back to professionalism in the presence of the superior officer, even if Garrus acknowledges the title as merely obligatory to originally get him to shut up and be left alone to do whatever it was he was urging the Hierarchy to do themselves. "General, what has Palaven Command reported?"

"The most accurate assumption for the position of Primarch is Master General Adrien Victus."

Coincidently, Victus' encampment was the closest to where the Invictus had gone down and where he was treated for his wounds before taking it upon himself to distract and reroute Reaper forces from both the camp and the few injured survivors of the crash. That was hours ago and there wasn't any certainty that the Master General and his men were still in the area as this morning, but there was nowhere else to start but there, so they headed there. Finding now-Primarch Victus took them straight through the thick of battle against hordes of human husks, the twisted Batarian remnants, monstrosities of his own people, and, even more gruesome, the amalgamated beast of Turian and Krogan, all the power of one controlled by the strategic mind of the other.

In retrospect, perhaps the unfortunate events that lead to Victus' promotion were for the best. Out of everyone within the strict chain of command he had to try to mingle and convince, Victus seemed the only one, though still skeptical, to believe Garrus' need for higher defenses and a faster response time between defensive and offensive opportunities. Even if he catered to and supported the younger man's plans in effort to better the military under the supposed Reaper preparation, at least he didn't lie directly to Garrus' face and admitted that.

That, along with the man's tendency to play loose with accepted strategy like he himself prefers in a real world situation that calls for quick judgments and adjustments in the middle of battle, is what gained Garrus' support of the appointment. He knows that with Victus at the head of the Hierarchy, there may actually be a chance to put together a unified force for the war effort. More importantly, he trusts the man to do what he can't with his title that means less to the politicians and military command of the Hierarchy than what Archangel meant to the mercs on Omega.

When they find him, Victus is just as he remembered, brusque and directly to the point with expecting the same in return. Luckily – or not depending on how this goes on the political battlefield to come – Jane is just one of those people who doesn't waste time 'pussyfooting around the issue', as she loves to say. It's what they'll need to convince the war bred man into believing he isn't needed here on Menae or fighting with physical weapons, but away from their homes, fighting with words and strategy no difference than he's already known for, just given a new environment.

"It will take something beyond important for me to leave my men, _or_ my Turian brothers and sisters, in their fight."

She nods in understanding, perhaps more than Garrus knows without having a chance to speak to her of Earth, so he steps forward and says. "Palaven Command has returned word of the next Primarch after Fedorian's death." Victus nods to continue, knowing full well that Primarch Fedorian was not among Garrus' men that had crawled into his encampment from the Invictus wreckage. What would come next, Garrus knows Adrian Victus would have never expected. "You're the new Primarch."

Victus' head jerks in surprise as his mandibles flick in skepticism, consideration too, but mostly the disbelief that someone in command would finally see some damn reason and stop doing everything by the book if it, indeed, won wars. Giving Garrus a nod in silent thanks for explaining, his mate turns to Victus and says, "The Council is useless in helping us in this war, but if you can chair the War Summit Primarch Fedorian called for, you can represent your people, help unify us because that's the only way we are going to be able to take down the damn Reapers."

He doesn't know if Victus even hears her, looking up into the sky at their home, their _burning_ home. He knows that look, that emotion of watching something you thought so powerful and indestructible falling to ruin. Garrus knows the reports of those lost, has seen it in every face and every blast in the sky above, but it doesn't mean quite the same to see the burning of Palaven as it does to a man that has spent his entire life putting the military, wars, ahead of himself, of others.

What loss means to him isn't the burning of a planet that was there homeworld, he saw a ship as more home than Palaven ever was, it's the absence of a single person now become three. Jane has been taken from him once, but not again, never again.

"I've spent my whole life in the military. I'm not diplomat, Commander." Victus looks over his shoulder to them as they approach to stand by his side, looking up at the destruction that will soon encompass the entire galaxy. "I hate diplomats." Garrus rumbles in agreement to that, being a diplomat was the worst experience of his life, even when he was only present for advising on the Reaper issue and taking his leave at every other time out of reluctance to _ever_ be forced into becoming a politician.

"Fuck diplomacy," she says, eyes never leaving Palaven – and that just makes him worry about his family now that the ever present fighting has died down for the time being. "'Those who can win a war well can rarely make a good peace and those who could make a good peace would never have won the war." Finally, she looks to the Primarch. "We need leaders who have been in the trenches and now how to fight with strategy, aren't afraid of when the bullets fly and blood is shed. Plus," she adds with that grin that never means anything good, "I like the way you think, you got balls."

Victus laughs, actually _laughs_ , at that, turning to the redhead with an amused smirk. It's good to see, good to believe that the war won't break even the most burdened of them all, the leaders that have to make the horrible decisions of who dies now so others can die later. "I like that. You're right. Unifying everyone may be the bigger battle." He sobers at that and Garrus hears his low hum of resolution. "Give me a moment to say goodbye to my men."

 _Goodbye and see you on the other side, may the Spirits guide you_ is what Garrus _knows_ the other man truly needs as he watches the now-Primarch return to his men, face stoic and lacking any telling emotions. Without the Master General here to lead the entire force here on the Menae, there is every chance they will lose it, lose every last soldier on it. It's a sobering thought, that they are just whisking away the entire moon's superior officer in the middle of the war, but, without him, without this summit, they will lose _everything_ when the Reapers win this war.

He figures it's just the same for if they lose Jane, the spearhead of their resistance. It's not a reality he likes to hear, wants to be the only one looking up and out for her, but he can't fight the tide of everyone turning to her as their hero just as much as he could fight Fedorian throwing him into this position. How he could have ever gotten here, to a place where now everyone is turning to him for answers when he was just a failed C-Sec officer and scared vigilante, he'll never know, but he can't turn his back on the biggest chance of doing his duty at putting Jane's army together, not when it ultimately means the ability to further protect her, their family.

"Hey," he looks down to her voice, seeing her warm smile as she takes his hand. "So things just got more complicated."

Chuckling, he squeezes her hand. "When hasn't it?"

"Victus needs men on the ground here." Her eyes narrow as she exhales heavily, her eyes turning to a burning dreadnought that was downed in the distance. "He needs the Krogan."

"Krogan at a War Summit? I don't think that's happened since before the Rebellions. If that." He turns to her and cups her jaw, pressing his forehead to hers with a thrumming purr. "How are they? I want to see them so bad it hurts, Jane," he whines as he clenches his eyes in need.

"I know, Garrus. You're almost home," she whispers as her gloved hands cup his face, stopping the keen he hadn't known was building in his throat. "The shuttle is almost here, I promise."

"I've missed you." He pulls her into a kiss, desperate and hungry to fill that void that was building from the time apart and threatened to devour him when he heard of Earth. It's almost a perfect filling of that void that nearly sends him into dropping her into the Menae dirt and 'doing the _whole_ reunion thing', but he hears her comm go off.

Her lips frowning against his mouth plates, she pulls away and opens the communications channel. He doesn't yet have access, hadn't had a chance to bother with it considering their situation and this being the first still air since reuniting with her, so he only hears her as she speaks. "I'm listening, Joker… Have Liara look into it and hurry your asses up. We have the Primarch and Cortez heading to our position with a shuttle, I need the Normandy out of this system yesterday." She groans and fists the air in frustration, her armor creaking. "Fuck piece of Alliance shit."

"Problems with the Normandy?" He frowns and fights the urge to worry about the fact that their children are up there with only Liara to look after them. "Is everything okay? Are they…"

She shakes her head with a reassuring smile. "Damocles and Cassia are, according to Liara, passed out and hogging all the pillows. No, it's the Normandy's systems -probably the Alliance refurbishes – and they may lose it completely during the next few hours if it keeps going as it is. They'll be dead in the water." Sighing, she rubs her forehead in thought. "Fuck… we can either get on the Normandy now and take it to hide closer to the Relay in case it goes dark or wait it out here."

"The Primarch can't stay here, Jane, it's too risky." He rumbles and looks out at the Reaper walking across the horizon. "But we can't just take a shuttle off Menae without detection. That's how the Invictus was downed." Looking out over the air field just as the Normandy's shuttle arrives, he gets an idea brought on by an emotion and hope he's had buried as they fight in order to keep focused. "We need a distraction to ensure the Primarch makes it to the ship safely."

"Oh?" She lifts a brow and says, "That sounds like an 'I got a stupid idea that just might work' speech."

"Stupid? Maybe," he agrees with a frown as he looks to her. "Jane, my family's down there. I've set up a program to track the evacuees leaving the system, it's been running since I repaired the communications tower… they haven't made it off Palaven."

Ever the one to read him before even he could, she nods and looks to Palaven. "Think we could make it there in a shuttle?"

"I know we can. Might need the Normandy to pick us up at least from atmo, but we can make it." He takes her hand and presses his forehead to hers in plea. Despite his strained relationship with his father and guilt at leaving his sister for so long to hold the family together, he can't see himself just leaving them on Palaven knowing they couldn't follow his warning in time. "Jane, I have to try."

She smiles and nods against him. "Think we can contact them if we get within range of your home?" He should have never know to doubt her, that she would never turn away, but simply ask 'how can I get it done'.

"I'm sure of it."

"Good," she says before stepping back and towards the Primarch and Jimmy. He watches as she speaks with them, too far to hear, but understandable through the movements of her body as she emotes, pointing to the planet, then away, spreading her hands with a signal of 'split up'. Despite the look of concern on what he assumes in her shuttle pilot's face, he nods and the three take to a unmarked Hierarchy shuttle, leaving behind the Alliance issued one to Garrus and his mate.

With their plan set, they launch in time with the Primarch's, heading towards Palaven as the other heads to the Normandy. As hoped, the Hierarchy ship isn't paid as much mind as their own, only another warning sign that the Reapers are, _still_ , after his mate. Though, at least now, it seems like their reasons are much clears. What better way to win a war than to down the one every organic is standing behind?

Once they shake the Reaper tails with no _major_ damage beyond a few grazes to the hull and possible lost engine, they limp their way over Cipritine on their way towards the outskirts of the capital city, the destruction worse than he thought. The tall spires of the city have collapsed, most no longer standing and replaced by the sleek, curved black of Reaper hulls as they move through the city, eye-like cannons scanning for survivors to then fire burning energy upon.

It's as if in a nightmare, seeing a once thriving city now nothing more than a deadened corpse with too small numbers of shuttles trying, and succeeding, in escaping. It is insane and naïve for him to have ever believed he could find his father and sister in all of this.

"It's alright," his wife says as she lays a hand on his from the co-pilot's seat, as if reading his thoughts from her expression. "We'll find them."

"Uh… yeah." Humming, he takes a look at the readout from his visor as it scans for either of his family's tools. He hopes he hasn't lost any chance of finding them in the city, the area too dangerous to fly over for long without drawing attention from the patrolling Reapers, and heads for his home. If they are still here, then it means they weren't able to leave, that, for some reason, they were held up after he told Solana to get anything they could and run.

"Wait," he interrupts his own thoughts, gasping at the blimp on his visor. "Jane, track this signal." Throwing up the signal frequency onto the shuttle's systems, he raises the speed threshold to as fast as it will go with its damaged left thruster. "That's them. That's _my family_."

His home, if anything of what's left could even be considered that, is destroyed, nearly _leveled_ along with the scattered homes along the side of the mountain his parents built their home upon. He needs her help to set and get out of the shuttle, his eyes widen and mind rushing with memories of the home that is nothing more than rubble, collapsed stone and overlaying polymers for aesthetics.

"Jane, it's… it's _gone_." His whisper is so weak, mandibles flaring and trembling in shock. It must be some sort of fallback to his days as a child, but he almost thought this place invincible, the one indestructible place in the galaxy because it had once been his home, his haven as a young boy.

From the corner of his eye, he sees her move to speak when a flash of light erupts between them, shortly followed by the loud register of a rifle. Stunned and with a curse from her lips, they snap around to the sound of a thump and find a Turian husk downed, a hole between the optics on his right side. _Impressive, but a bit off – wait…_

"Dad?" His eyes widen and he looks around, knowing from his childhood that there would only be one person around that could make that shot, even if it was off, his father and the man that taught him through the aches and pains of training from a young age. "Dad!"

A figure climbs up from their position at the highest rise of the rubble, lowering his weapon. "Garrus. I thought you'd be off Palaven, fighting this war." He motions with his chin to Garrus' wife. "Jane. I see you've made it off Earth."

"Nice to see you again, Vakarian Senior," she jokes to lighten the tension of both situation and slight disapproval from his father.

Let his father fault him for being here. It doesn't matter so long as he can look himself in the mirror and say he didn't fail them, not this time. No, this time he _fought_ and he didn't fail to finally be there for them, to get them to safety.

Yet, something is wrong. _Someone_ is missing.

 _Please no,_ he internally begs as he and Jane begin to climb the rubble to Titus' location. "Where is Sol? Dad, please, tell me she's okay."

"She's injured and can't walk, but okay," the older man rumbles and motions further down to where they've dug out a small alcove in the rubble. There, his sister lays with her leg in a makeshift splint made from the best materials they could find, which wasn't much considering their father couldn't up and leave her position open to incoming Reaper forces scouting for survivors.

Taking Jane's offered medigel, he goes to her, soothing her pain with the gel and doing his best to support the nasty break, ignoring the molted look of her thigh and seeping wound where the bone penetrated through hide and plate.

"Couldn't stay out of trouble, I see," he offers his pained sister with a chuckle, hearing the blast of his mate's shotgun along with his dad's weapons fire as they take down another onslaught of incoming enemies.

"Jack ass," she snaps with a hiss, void of all spite. "Spirits, they moved in too fast for us to get out. The house… damn thing collapsed on me."

He chuckles with her and stands to go help the others as he's done as much as he can. "We'll talk house integrity once we get you back on the ship. Here," he hands her a pistol, knowing the recoil won't be forceful enough to jar her wound, "if anything happens, give them hell."

Leaving her, he climbs up with Jane and his father, watching her back as she takes his arrival as her opportunity to do as she does best. Charging in, she circles the massive beast of a Brute and distracts it to give him a shot at the exposed core within its spine. His father soon realizes the weakness as well and, soon, the three of them are taking on, and thinning, the incoming forces.

They won't be able to hold out long, running on the small number of sinks after a long fight on Menae added to his own father's dwelling supply, but they don't have to as he hears a loud, "Did someone call the cavalry?" through the comm channel. The Normandy soon follows, its hatch opening wide as the soldiers posted within begin opening fire, adding to Liara's biotics, to provide cover enough for the three of them to assist his wounded sister aboard.

His family onboard and more safe than they'd be on Palaven, for there is truly nowhere to be completely safe anymore, he hears Jane give the – very loud- order to 'get the hell out of this fucking system, we have injured dammit!' and helps Solana and his father to the MedBay. Despite hearing of the Normandy not having a medical officer, he still manages to force himself to help his father tend to his sister's leg – knowing that he can't just drop her off in the Bay and expect his weak and dehydrated father to do it alone - all the while anticipating with a jittery pulse of going up to the Loft and seeing, _holding_ , his children for the first time.


	6. Chapter 6

-Jane-

She can't believe what she's hearing. Did EDI just say that she admittedly put the entire ship at risk for the sake of _curiosity_?

Sure, Jane understood the need for the AI to get into the Cerberus machine's systems to find whatever data that she and Liara managed to find from the downloaded data from Mars, it would help with the war. However, when EDI's curiosity got the better of her and she _stayed_ inside the systems long enough to set off the internal trap? Well, then that was where Jane's understanding ran out.

"Wait, wait, wait," she interrupts EDI mid-sentence about coming onto ground missions. "Let me see if I get this right. You, _after_ getting the information we needed, decided to kill the ship's systems in the middle of a warzone _with my fucking children_?" She growls the last bit, fists clenching into painful fists as she scowls.

"The temporary loss of my systems was unexpected, but I assure you that the Normandy's systems will be completely functional before we arrive at the Citadel."

"I don't fucking care," Jane snaps as she storms to the AI's new body and, even if EDI doesn't understand intimidation, gives the look that is the last sight of many before she hands them, often violently, to death. "The next time you decide to pull that shit with my children aboard, I will not hesitate to rip your core to pieces with my bare, fucking hands. But not before I send that piece of shit you're in out the damn airlock. Don't you _ever_ put my family in danger, you hear me?"

The AI takes a moment to 'think', robotic eyes looking off before returning to the red head. "It was an inappropriate time to proceed with the transition. I… apologize."

Snorting dismissively, Jane's scowl never leaves as she backs away from the AI, not wanting to ruin her reunion with her husband by getting even angrier. "You know what, EDI? Don't even bother with trying to show sympathy until you can learn what it means to care for something besides protecting your programming." Her anger begins to cool at the thought of who she is ultimately fighting for. "Once you love someone or something other than yourself, don't try to act like you have even an inkling of understanding."

Trying not to revert back to anger at the carelessness and sheer stupidity – _for some advanced AI, she sure doesn't know cause and effect very well, doesn't have common sense_ \- she takes the respective nod and unconscious parade rest from EDI as acquiescence and leaves, searching for Garrus. She finds him just finishing up with mending his sister's leg as best he can and explaining to his father 'why the Alliance doesn't see it reasonable to waste credits keeping a fully stocked store of Turian specific medical supplies'.

It takes some effort, but she manages to hold back her laughter at the exasperation in her mate's voice as he explains for what must be the hundredth time and wait. The wait isn't long before she sees those beautiful blue eyes, eyes that she now has three pairs of in her life, lift and lock onto her, a silent plea in them to 'save me, please'.

She smiles and contemplates leaving him there, but thinks better of it. More than watching him suffer his father's incessant questioning and complaints, she wants him to finally see his children and _knows_ that slight bite to his words is his own barely controlled anxiety. Going to them, she puts on her Commander Shepard face and makes it just in time to hear Titus Vakarian say, "Spirits, Garrus. Would you _calm down_? Whatever you're so impatient for can wait until your _own sister_ is tended to."

Seeing it all about to boil over as if in premonition, Jane cuts in just as she sees Garrus' mandibles pull tight – the sure sign that he's about to give his target either a punch in the face, bullet between the eyes, or bite their figurative head off, neither of which will turn out well considering the recipient. "Excuse me, but Garrus needs to get to his post in the Main Battery. _And_ ," she adds, switching to Jane Vakarian, the woman seeing her husband off a battlefield after months and two babies, "he's earned the damn chance to meet his fucking children, _Titus_."

The older Vakarian makes a rumbling grunt and face of disapproval, but she takes the smile from her mate and laugh from his sister as a victory. "Spirits, daddy, let them be. I'm as okay as I'll be without a doctor. I'm not going to go to any big spars or anything," Sol says with a warm smile and purr to both Jane and Garrus. "Go see those little babies… but only if I get to see them soon."

Garrus chuckles, ignoring his father, and Jane sees Titus exhale heavily as he expels his irritation at the situation, realizing just how much sway the young Vakarian has with him. "You'll get to see them when _I_ have had my fill-"

"So never?" She flicks her mandibles in an eye roll at his smirk and slight nod, crossing her arms in a pouting huff. "You're such a jerk."

"Alright you two," Jane cuts in with a warm smile as she takes her mate's hand, their fingers linking in an expression of love they've known for years. "It's my turn with my husband." She lives for that loving purr and seductive growl, and now that throaty groan of denunciation from his father she's sure he doesn't know she understands, that she gets in return as he follows her out of the MedBay.

When they make it to the lift, he's on her, kissing and groping, and she's returning the attention whole heartedly. Sure, it's a bit awkward with them still in full armor from Menae and then Palaven, but there's time for that later as their hands can't even wait to get out of their gloves before touching the other, tongues tangling despite the ash, dust, sweat, and stray spatter of unidentifiable Reaper fluids. The only thing that snaps them out of it is the overly loud ring of the elevator on their floor.

He jerks and stops, obviously too worked up to move, frozen in place from his raging emotions as told by his all other the place vocals and constantly moving mandibles. Jane completely understands his slight fear, the anxiety of seeing their children for the first time since they were nothing more than nuisances that thought her kidneys were punching bags and her bladder a nice little toy to press up on and make her nearly piss her pants.

Chuckling, she yanks him with her, nearly laughing when he stumbles with wide eyes and a trill of surprise. He barely notices as Liara slips by, a huge grin on her face that matches Jane's, and leaves down the lift so they can have his first time with his son and daughter alone. The doors swing open as the first thing she hears is the soft babble of toothless mouths and his simultaneous trilling gasp.

Garrus doesn't need anything more as he walks to their shared, makeshift crib - made from a padded and double padded weapons crate – as if drawn with a gravitational force that washes away all the nerves, like the Turian father he really is drawn to the scent of his children. The highest, sweetest cooing keen she's ever heard comes from his throat as he drops to his knees, heavy armor making a loud crack on the metal flooring, and presses his face into the 'crib' nuzzling both of them with cheeks, mandibles, and forehead.

She smiles, eyes actually watering at his trembling shoulders and gasped chirps that choke his loving purrs. Going to him, she lays a tender hand on his shoulder and crouches beside him just as he starts to lay loving nibbles with his mouth plates to their faces, the very tip of his tongue peeking between the plates. It's actually pretty damn cute, the soft, loving kisses his created just for her, and now his children, that combined human kisses with the tender licks of his own people to become something that only belongs to them, to their family.

Their children, precious little Cassia and Damocles, share his soft coos, mimic as best their baby vocals can and turning into short bursts of low chirps and Jane hears her mate huffs a soft laugh as he nuzzles his forehead to Cassia's, then Damocles'. True to his nature and attitude, their son is the first to become miffed at the intruder to their crib and begins to make a cuffing sort of sound of irritation.

Chuckling, Garrus leans away and watches them, purring with such love and devotion in his eyes. It's in that moment that she knows with complete conviction that if there's anything in this universe that she knows can drive the two of them to win this war with everything they have, it's these two little lives they created.

As if a switch is flipped, the charge in the air from their ride up from the Crew Deck and he jumps her, pushing her to the floor, kissing her forcefully with a litany of 'sorry', 'I just need you', 'I love you', 'I missed you,' 'I missed you so much'. She agrees completely, or would if she had the mind to speak around the happiness rolling down her cheeks and moans, but she can't think past getting them out of their armors.

The need to feel the other is almost too powerful by the time they get their armors off and undersuits pulled away. She doesn't even get the chance to remark on his new, shining armor like she had wanted on Menae or explore his scars as if she hadn't already when he surprised her on Earth, the sexy things they are, but it doesn't matter. There will be plenty of time to explore once they're together again.

Speaking of, she doesn't know which happens first, her moan of pleasure or his entrance into her, but it all comes to a point that has her arching against the hard, cold floor. His growling moan in her ear is pure pleasure as he begins to move within her, as slow as he can go with both of them feeding off the other, too log apart to really draw this out.

She starts to pant and whine as she writhes under him, gasping his name against his throat and shivering at his thrumming moan. His hands tangle in her hair as she feels him shift to lower completely over her and it lets her feel the brushes of his thick stomach after being too large the last time for them to have sex this close while facing the other. Running her hands over him, she wraps around his waist and squeezes, using his own jutting hips to help guide him when he begins to lose control, bucking with growling pants.

They come apart together with cries of pleasure, his name falling from her lips as he says hers in dual vocals that drown out the translatable speech – a sound she wouldn't have understood except for the fact that he does it quite often in these settings. The sounds wakes the babies and throws them into a shrieking fit, but it was worth it. _Mommy and daddy need a chance to say hello, so fucking happy you're alive and with me again._

They spend the night tangled together in between intervals of caring and fawning over their twins until the babies are nearly crying in 'stop bothering me!'. Neither of them sleep, too focused on making up for the lost time that no one night half way through her pregnancy would cure or finally having the chance to share their affections with their children _together_.

When she wakes before him and the twins, she gets up, dresses, and heads down to the Mess to fetch food for both Cassia and Damocles, but also for her and her sleeping mate. Sure, it's nothing but rations until they reach the Citadel in a – _estimated_ \- few hours, but it's the most romantic dinner after a night of loving making, regular sex, and mindless fucking that she can think of.

She's sure it's the humming she's doing that distracts her from hearing the company she has, a guest that she doesn't notice until she's halfway through whatever nameless song she's singing and slamming the door of the fridge with breakfast in her hands. "Oh, hello," she says, at a lack of words to tell the father of her husband and grandfather to her children this early in the morning with such little sleep.

Titus Vakarian, ever the one for intimidation, simply crosses his hands behind his back as he looks her over. Instead of sharing the greeting, he hums as he narrows his eyes. "What are you intentions with my son?"

"Huh?" She lifts a brow and sets the food on the counter. "First of all, I don't have any _intentions_ but to live my life with him, love him as my husband-"

"Husband and wife is a human term," he interrupts and she takes a deep breath. "And it is that that I fear for my son. We may not get along, but I care for him more than he believes." He steps to her and she narrows her eyes, not one for intimidation tactics from a Turian and lifting her chin in defiance. "I think my son cares for you more than you think, more than you care to."

"What?" Shaking her head, she doesn't make the move to show him what she thinks with her fists and instead uses her head, putting this man in his place. "Husband and wife may be a human term, but we use it interchangeably with bondmate and lover, even Amora on the some of the worst days we've ever pulled each other out of." His mandibles shiver on his face, but don't make much more of a recognition to that name, a name Garrus himself told her about and one they rarely use, adding to its strength. "I love Garrus more than I love myself."

"More than your children?"

" _Our_ children," she corrects.

Scoffing, he shakes his head. "He only accepts your illegitimate children because a Turian bond is stronger, purer than a human 'marriage'."

"Whoa, whoa… back the hell up." She blows air out of her mouth, trying to keep calm because she knows her usual tactic of vulgarity and flying fists won't work against her father-in-law. "My children aren't bastard kids born from an affair like you think. Look, I don't have all the science bull to explain it, but those babies are more his babies than even mine. And don't ask me to explain _that_ because I barely understood it then and less now.

"And you know what? You should be _happy_ for your son, not questioning who he took as a bondmate," she says as she motions the decks above. "He doesn't deserve the way you treat him, and he _definitely_ doesn't need you questioning his children or my love for him when that's all that's keeping us from breaking under the stress." Collecting up the food, she turns from him to leave. "Oh, and one more thing: We have a war on our shoulders and you are continuously trying to pull out our feet, so if and when you succeed, ask yourself if it was worth it."

She doesn't stay to listen to any possible response as she takes the lift up to the Loft, hoping beyond hope that the senior Vakarian doesn't look for his son today before they can transfer his sister over to a hospital on the Citadel when they dock. At the Loft, she steps into the room to find not only her mate awake, but lying in bed with two tiny Turians curled up in his cowl as he _sings_.

_Yes, that is definitely singing, even if it's just vocals,_ she thinks as she takes the steps down, chuckling softly. He purrs and smiles at her as she comes to him to set the food on his side table, but not before pressing a kiss to him, then the back of each child.

"Hey, handsome," she says when he finishes up. "It's been awhile since I've heard you sing. Hell, I don't think I've heard it since Saren."

Chuckling, he motions her to take one and she picks out little Damocles from his cowl. "They were crying and I think they were hungry since, you know, it's morning and the food we had up here ran out last night. I thought to at least distract them because I figured you were down getting something."

"And if I wasn't?" She smirks as he snorts and eases their daughter from his cowl to hold and feed her as Jane does the same for their clicking son. Cassia, always the less hyper, purring happily as her chuckling dad has to hold her fluttering mandibles closed to keep her baby food in her mouth. "What if I was, I don't know, flirting with Vega or something?"

"Yeah, _that's_ believable," he responds with a roll of his mandible, the right still a bit stiff. "More like flirting with the Primarch, he's more your style."

"Because he has mandibles and plates? My, that's awfully racist of you, Garrus." She shares his chuckle as he bumps his shoulder to hers before nuzzling his mouth plates in a chaste kiss to her cheek.

After they feed, change, lightly clean, and clothe the babies, they can finally eat their own breakfasts. Next is dressing in their own daily clothes instead of him staying in the nude and she in the thrown on dirty undersuit. She puts on her BDUs since she'll only remove them for their trip on the Citadel and sees him put on something similar, then they each take a baby to head down to the Crew Deck.

There's less of a secrecy with the babies, no more carrying them in that cumbersome carrier but in their arms, because Jane is damn sure that no one is going to want to piss off both Commander Shepard _and_ Praetor Vakarian – who also happens to be Archangel. _I will never get over that, and damn him for turning me into a giddy girl every time I think of him as a badass vigilante._

Stepping into the MedBay, into Solana's sight with the two babies in their arms, bringing a shrill shriek from the grown woman's mouth. Jane finds it wasn't just her left with ringing ears as she sees Garrus flinch as if physically hit in the face and she can't help the chuckle at both that and the way his sister makes grabby hands for one of the babies, or both.

"Oh, lemme see, lemme see!" She trills and squeaks, wiggling as best as she can with her splint. It's actually pretty good to see her more focused on seeing and holding first her niece, then nephew, than her splinted leg. Anything to keep the mind off the obvious agony of a shattered leg only held at bay with the type of pain medication that the Alliance would feel safe leaving on a dry docked ship, which would be the same shit you could find over the counter and nothing near the kind of meds needing for broken limbs. "They're so adorable!"

Chuckling, Garrus rubs his free ear, his visor probably dulled the pitch of his sister's high voice and vocals. "Sol, please… don't deafen my children before their first year."

"Oh, shut it. More like you'd go deaf, old man," she playfully growls as she holds Cassia up, smiling at how the little girl warbles and wiggles her toes that poke through the holes that Jane had to cut into the foot to fit her three toes. "She's so _cute_. Look at her little mandibles!"

"Whose mandibles?" Garrus tenses with a soft growl at that voice as he turns to his father and Jane sighs, rubbing the baby in her arms' back to keep him soothed despite the possible blow out.

The room is awkwardly quiet, Solana turning all her focus on her niece as Jane steps closer to her mate who's taken a stance that tells her all too well that's he's about one sentence from turning into Archangel. She lays a hand on her mate's arm to try and keep him at bay when she sees the older Vakarian's eyes widen and mandibles flare as he takes in both the baby in her arms and her sister-in-law's.

"Dad," Garrus starts. "This is _our_ son and daughter, Damocles and Cassia." His stance relaxes as he waits with bated breath, rumbling in anticipation, but out of all the things the three of them could expect Titus Vakarian to do, they didn't anticipate him to _just turn around and walk out_.

_That was… he couldn't get out fast enough_ , she thinks in surprise as she hears the growl beside her, watching her mate storm out after his father. Giving a look to ensure Sol will tend to Cassia, Jane rushes after, stopping at the open Bay doors without passing through when she hears the conversation.

"What the hell was that? You can't even stand to look at your own grandchildren?"

She cups the baby's head to her shoulder as she hears Titus say, "I don't… those can't be your babies… not the babies she was carrying."

Hearing the loss for words in the man's voice, she sighs and can't believe she's actually siding with him in this instance. Or, at least, she hopes she's not misreading his hesitance as slowly having to come to terms with being both wrong and witness to what should be impossible.

Sighing, her husband speaks with a low growl. "Dammit, will you _for once_ stop being so blind and stupidly stubborn and _open your eyes_. I have children with the woman I love, my bondmate, and I would have thought that, out of the whole galaxy that could be against us, _you_ could see the importance of your own grandchildren. _Do you even_ _ **care**_?"

Jane, understanding her father-in-law's motives and reasoning for his actions this one time, steps out of the Bay, pretending she wasn't listening longer than she was. "Hey, Garrus? Can you help me with Cassia? I think she needs to be changed and I can't juggle babies."

She offers a weak chuckle and, thank whatever God for the pull she and the twins have over him, he turns from his father, coming to her to take their son. He purrs to the little one, smiling at the soft chirps he gets in return.

Solana seems to understand when she comes in, giving Cassia a last nuzzle before handing her over with a sympathetic frown. It seems the two women have something in common now in being the buffers between the two fighting males and Jane thanks her with a smile as she heads out before another spat can begin. Free hands clasped, the four of them head up to the Cabin to 'change' Cassia.

"I can't believe him," her husband growls, squeezing her hand. "I show him proof and he still thinks one of us had an affair."

"Maybe he just needs time to realize that, yes, they are real… and his grandchildren," she offers with a squeeze back. "They _are_ hybrids, after all, and that's not even heard of outside of Asari. And that's still not the same."

Shaking his head, he is the first to step out and into the Loft, she close behind. "I don't believe that… he was always a man that looked at the facts, made unbiased observations. Here," he rubs their son's back, "is proof enough that our children exist, but he didn't even give a second thought before dismissing us."

_Maybe it's because he's not good as distancing his personal life into justified decisions based on evidence like he could as a detective._ She doesn't speak, isn't able to when she's called to the comm room. Apparently, Liara and EDI have completed translating and putting together the information from that Cerberus droid and it's time to present it to the Admiral, hoping at least _someone_ will listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from SquigglySquid: For anyone interested (and willing to forgive my horrendous drawing skills), I have drawn Jane holding Damocles. If you want to see, just copy this link. Hopefully it should work. :)   
> 
> <https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B62uDkqdeIdqWEF1WlJGdjBSalk/view>


	7. Chapter 7

-Garrus-

"Look, I know it doesn't taste too good, but I promise mommy and daddy will get you something better," he pleads – _can't believe I'm pleading with my six week old son_ – with a purring rumble as he cradles a gurgling Damocles in the crook of his arm, trying to make him eat some of the bland meat paste. "What if I eat some? Will you eat it then?"

He's sure his lack of awareness has to be because of his full attention on his son, and not due to getting sloppy, because he doesn't even notice when the Primarch enters the Mess, rumbling in question. "I sure hope I didn't walk into something _private_ between you and your mate."

"Oh, Primarch," Garrus trills in embarrassment and, with nowhere to hide baby Damocles, turns to face the former General now turned leader of his entire species. He watches as the man's rumble of amusement dies into a choked trill and his brow plates rise. "I was just, uh, trying to feed…" he sighs and tucks his son to his chest, shielding him with his arms just in case, "my son."

"Your son." Composed quickly, the man crosses his arms behind his back and approaches. Even when considered a 'civilized' species, Garrus still has to fight the instinct to bare his teeth and subvocally threaten the intruding male from his young and vulnerable offspring, but he manages to swallow it down to a slight twitch of his mandibles. _Wouldn't do to get into a senseless fight with the Primarch in the middle of a galactic war, after all._

"Yeah," he answers the non-question, using a hand to cover his son's and hide the five fingers. "I understand it's not orthodox to bring a child onto a ship that is the middle of the resistance, but-"

Nose plates shifting with slightly shifted mandibles as he scents, Victus interrupts. "He's Shepard's too, I see."

"-and I think – wait, what?" Garrus trills, barely hearing the man through his rambling explanation.

"I smell your mate on them… but it's stronger than just physical contact." His eyes widen a bit in realization, but before he can speak, Garrus growls and backs away to put a good distance between them, readying to defend his child with talons and teeth if need be. Rumbling in consideration, Victus nods and locks eyes with the younger male. "Don't worry, Garrus. However you managed this child, it's more important that you are in this fight, you and your mate. I don't give a damn about Council law against their existence because, right now, I'm frankly more worried about our people, about winning this war. If that means you and yours remain a secret, then so be it."

Ducking his head in thanks, Garrus says, "Thank you, sir. It… means more than you think to at least have someone who isn't indebted to us turn a blind eye to them."

"Them? You have more than one?"

"A son and a daughter. She's with my wife." There's a sort of silence that passes, a time where Garrus can't help but notice the older man's searching eyes over his son, mandibles flicking in thought. "Do…" _I can't believe I'm saying this considering I've never known this man outside of professional matters_ , "Would you like to hold him?" He chuckles and adds, "He doesn't yet have his teeth, so no worries about biting."

Victus hums before letting go of his usual stern nature, arms relaxing as he considers. Obviously giving into curiosity, he gently takes the chirruping baby in his hands. Holding Damocles with the skill of an experienced parent – more so than Garrus, at least – he rumbles with a slight flare of a mandible. "I suppose I don't want to know how this is possible?"

"Better to deny if it ever blows back on you," Garrus agrees, nodding and leaning against the counter with his hip. Why it's so hard for his _own_ father to just accept his children and hold them, he doesn't know, but it does help his paternal need to defend them to know that he and Jane aren't completely alone when it comes to those outside the Normandy's views on their babies. "I fear they won't really be well received if it ever gets out."

"No, it won't." Victus hums, looking up to him. "It's better they stay hidden, for even I can admit it feels like the war's outcome rests on your mate's, and by association, your, shoulders." His eyes return to the child in his arms as he rumbles and lays a palm softly on Damocles' forehead in a request for the Spirits' blessing that Garrus recognizes from his mother. "We can only hope the Spirits are merciful enough to keep _your_ pillars of strength protected."

"I'll die before either of them are harmed," he growls as he notices Jane rounding the corner, Cassia held to her shoulder.

Her eyes, when she sees Victus, first widen in worry, but relax when she sees the older man offer Damocles back, the baby cooing to be returned to the familiar and relaxing scent of his father. At that, she comes to them, nodding in greeting to the Primarch and receiving a returned nod back. Garrus knows she understands the friendly rumble from his vocals because she smiles and relaxes her protecting hold on their daughter.

"Primarch Victus, I had no idea you actually knew we had a ship outside the War Room," she says with a chuckle and he actually _returns it_ , much to Garrus' relief. These political dealings might actually go easier if everyone knows the others aren't just out to gain without following up once one half of a compromise is met.

"I do, in fact, tend to pay attention to the location of the Mess, despite the lack of appetizing cuisine."

She snorts and rubs their daughter's back. "That issue will be taken care of here on the Citadel. Wouldn't want _two_ adult Turians bitching about lousy food." Garrus chuckles as the older man nods in thanks. "Oh, and I wanted to ensure you that this summit _will_ work. I personally know the Urdnot clan leader, Wrex. He's a hard ass, but he's only stubborn to a point. My only warning is to expect to broker a deal."

"Yes, I had assumed as much. We can only hope friendship means something now in this war."

"If not, then common sense," Garrus adds and the Primarch rumbles in agreement.

Footsteps, a bit urgent in the quick pace of the footfalls, approaches. Turning their attentions to the new party, they see the communications specialist, a young woman still inexperienced in serving upon and active warship and, thus, almost naïve in the dealings of war, in battle. According to Jane, Specialist Traynor both has her work set out for her dealing with the hectic communications and is pretty damn good at it so far. Considering that, Garrus can accept her awkward demeanor around anything 'combat related', even if that includes occasionally dealing with battle-hardened soldiers instead of technicians.

"Ma'am, Sirs," Traynor says with a quick salute, obviously cued in on the babies as she doesn't even give them a second look – the first was awfully feminine and akin to a gush, but Garrus won't mention it. "We've received a hail from the Council. They would like an audience."

"What for? I just spoke to them about the device and they acted like it was nothing but a goose chase." Jane frowns in confusion as Victus, seeing the conversation not necessarily concerning him any longer takes his leave. "What more do they want?"

"Actually," the woman turns to him, "the request is for you. The have asked if you can attend a hearing in their Chambers."

"Well, well, well," his wife says with a teasing smirk. "Someone is in _trouble_ …" She chuckles. "Wonder what they want. Well, guess you'll have to go find out while I watch the babies."

Rumbling, he smirks back, knowing how much she despises the Councilors and having to be anywhere near them without the benefit of a communication channel she can just close at her leisure. "Oh, I don't think so. You'll be going too." At her snort and eye roll, he adds, "Liara can watch the kids because she's going to stay on the ship any ways while she, Feron, and Poe finish installing her Broker Network in her cabin."

Sighing, she nods. "Also cuts out the time it'll take us to get shit done and the babies' things before heading back out. The sooner we get this Summit down pat, the better." Turning to Traynor, she says exactly what he's thinking. "Tell the Council that Vakarian will be there as soon as he tends to a personal matter. If they don't like it, tough titties."

"Uh…"

"No, don't tell them that last part," he explains with a sigh, hoping it doesn't take too long for the woman to get used to Jane's tendency to speak every word that comes to mind. The young woman's eyes widen in realization that it was a joke and she nods, rushing off to relay the message. "You should probably keep from traumatizing the crew, Jane."

"Nah. She'll get used to it," she corrects with a chuckle and gentle rub of her knuckle under Cassia's chin. "Did you get Damocles to eat?" Garrus shakes his head and frowns at her exaggerated sigh. "Looks like, _once again_ , I have to be the responsible adult."

"'Responsible'," he mirrors with a raised brow plate. "Right." She chuckles and leans up on her toes as he bends down to receive her kiss on his cheek. "Guess that means I owe you if you feed him?"

"Damn right," she whispers against his ear with a hint of promise to her voice that makes him shiver. "You think we can find you a uniform out on the Citadel? Maybe something like Victus' Primacy garb?"

"Huh?" is all he can say, too confused to form a coherent statement. Why in the world his wife would want a military uniform is beyond him, but he's sure it's just one of those oddities of hers.

"Well," she smirks and runs her free hand up his keel through the only pair of civvies he had, which have clearly seen better days from the hastily patched up holes and tears. He shivers and growls at her amused chuckle before continuing. "You used to look sexy in your C-Sec issued uniform, so I can only _imagine_ how you look in an official Hierarchy uniform, Praetor insignia as an added bonus."

"Wait… is this like your thing about my undersuit and armor?" He raises a brow in interest as the pieces start to fit together. "Why is it you always like seeing me _in_ clothes?"

She laughs, playfully nudging him as she goes to where he set down the uneaten baby food. "I _love_ you outside of clothes and armor, but seeing as how you can't walk around naked all the time, I find it sexy as hell to see you fill out that tight fitting Turian clothes." Offering to feed their son, he lets her lay their daughter in his cowl to free her hands. "And if even your undersuit design has changed along with your armor to fit your position, I want to see what new uniform you get."

He shakes his head as he chuckles, rubbing Cassia's back as she curls up to sleep, tiny breaths evening out. "You have odd views on sexual interests-"

"Says the Turian that likes my squishy bits and can't stop groping my ass and tits."

"Jane, please, we have children now," he says with a chuckle and flick of his mandible. She snorts and works on feeding their son, getting him to actually open by slipping a finger with just a bit of the food paste on it into his mouth and managing to get Damocles to start suckling her finger as best he can given his mouth structure. _Going to have to remember that_.

"If you don't want to dress up for me, fine," she says with a smirk. "I can always stick to my other kinks. After all, it's not like you can get rid of your scars." He actually feels his plates shifting and a warmth filling his belly at that, remembering how, since he first showed her his face without the bandage, she loves to use her mouth and tongue over every ridge and dip of his molted hide and shattered plates. She must see his shiver – more like she hears his loud growl – because she chuckles with a smug grin. "You thought about it, didn't you?"

"No," he deadpans, making her laugh because there was never any doubt. Stepping to her, he presses his forehead to hers. "If you really want to, I'll requisition at least a set of uniforms when I set an order for some regular clothes." He thrums and smirks, adding, "But only if you get yourself something to make it worth my while."

"You bet," she agrees with a smile as their son finishes up his meal. "Alright, let's get the babies to Liara and try to get your sister into Huerta."

Giving a nod of understanding, he follows her to T'Soni's cabin, the room nearly empty in preparation for the supposed installment of some sort of set up for her Shadow Broker work. As it is, however, there is simply a bed in the far alcove, where the Asari is currently sitting reading a datapad.

She doesn't even hesitate to take the twins off their hands for a short time, her wide smile all too telling of what she thinks of the two little impossibilities. Garrus has to admit that, in the beginning, he was hesitant to believe the woman seemingly overly obsessed with his wife was a good choice to watch his children, but the care she takes when she brings them to her bed is slowly helping him to build trust in the woman again. With time and the chance to see her not as the vengeful information broker but as their former squadmate and friend, he may find a way to forgive her for her questionable judgment concerning the circumstances of his wife's resurrection.

He leaves to the MedBay before his mate, heading into the inevitable tense silence between him and his dad. That tension is just as heavy as expected when he enters and feels the cold steel of his father's eyes turn to him. Unmoved by the older man's near-glare, Garrus walks right past him and to his sister's bed, never giving Titus Vakarian the satisfaction of acknowledgement.

"You ready to go, Sol?" he asks with a rumble, as if the other occupant were not there.

Groaning in exasperation, his sister growls and looks between the two. "I am _not moving_ until you two stubborn asses _talk_ to each other. And don't you tell me anything about carrying me because we all know I will do whatever it takes, kicking, screaming, and biting included."

He gives her a pointed look to stop acting like a child – not understanding the irony in that – and she simply huffs as crosses her arms in defiance. Sighing, he looks to his father with a less than friendly stare, narrowing his eyes. "I won't beg you," he says with a low growl. "You either accept my children or you don't, but I am _done_ trying to convince you of what you're too stubborn to see. If you want to insist, for whatever reason, that my children aren't mine _and_ Jane's, then you have no place in their lives." Solana gasps at the ultimatum and his father's mandibles shift in worried disbelief – _so he does care, in some way_.

"Garrus," his father starts, as if in a daze. "You have to understand that I lived my whole life being told that what you claim is true was _impossible_. Spirits, I even worked cases where I apprehended monsters trying to bend the laws of nature in the same way that-"

"We didn't have a choice," his wife says from behind them, having entered sometime during the conversation. "I'm sure Garrus wasn't secretive about Cerberus and their methods of using questionable tech without our knowledge. It's that same tech that's responsible for our children. We didn't chose it, we didn't plan it, but we couldn't just kill two living embryos unless there was a reason." She walks to them and looks right at his father. "And being a hybrid is not a good enough reason."

"Dad," he rumbles and hands over an OSD. "This is everything Professor Mordin Solus and Doctor Jharen Apgar put together and had on Jane's pregnancy and means of conception." Sighing, he drops his head and wishes his father could, for once, look at something that concerned him not as his father, but as the detective because, as much as he hates his father for it, the man was always more perceptive when dealing with strangers and mattes not directly involving himself. "Look, you listened to me and believed in my claim of the Reapers when I gave you evidence, so at least look at this. I shouldn't have to plead with you to believe in _your own grandchildren_ , but seeing obviously isn't believing in this case."

Silence falls over them as his father simply looks down at the OSD in his hands, mandibles flaring and closing in running thoughts. Garrus is about to say something, to just give up, when EDI interrupts. "Shepard, there seems to be an issue concerning Solana's transfer and admission into Huerta."

"What?" Titus growls at the AI's comm. "That is preposterous. What is the reason for this?"

"They claim they can no longer provide care for those that can just as easily be treated upon a medical vessel. They are filled to capacity and cannot provide care to refugees with non-critical injuries."

Bureaucracy at work, Jane sighs and shakes her head. "Did you use Spectre authorization?"

"I have," EDI confirms. "C-Sec's Executor wishes to speak with you. He claims to 'be an old friend' and 'may be able to help your situation'."

Her confused eyes turn to him, but he shrugs, not knowing who the Executor is. Certainly not Pallin because that man would _never_ consider the hot headed young officer _or_ the first human Spectre, who also managed to anger him when she pulled her Spectre card to open one of Garrus' old files, an 'old friend'. Sure, there was that human Captain that helped them, and in return was helped in a few cases he couldn't touch, but did that qualify as 'friends'?

"We'll be right out. Titus and Sol, sit tight." Garrus follows at her head jerk, rumbling in anxiousness at the unknown in this situation. Just in case, he palms the weapon on his hip, knowing Jane has one of her own, even if she'd probably use her biotics first.

Heading into the dock from the airlock, they expected anything to happen. Anything, except who greeted them as they rounded the corner, that is.

Flanked by an officer on each side and robed in the more professional suit of the Executor is his old mentor and friend, Decian Chellick. Jane's face lights up at the man's smirk and Garrus actually chuckles, shaking his head at the fact that they used to joke about this very thing on long nights of him complaining about the sheer amount of crippling paperwork that had to be done for each and every case.

"I had thought the two of you would be at the center of the war everyone seems so intent on ignoring," he says with a rumble, motioning the two officers to give them room with a jerk of his chin. "Where one is, the other always follows."

"How the hell did you find yourself in this position? Executor?" Garrus chuckles and goes to him, pulling the older man into a hug – human gesture, sure, but it's good to finally see someone from the time _before everything,_ before their lives turned into the stolen moments between battles – and rumbling when the gesture is returned, then accepted by his mate. "What happened to Pallin?"

Chellick frowns at that, lowering his voice to barely above a hum. "I'm not sure, but I'm looking into it." His unwillingness to elaborate is concerning, but Garrus doesn't push. It's been too long to demand to be let into his old friend's thinking, too long to expect that trust to be completely explicit again. "More importantly, though, I hear there is some concern considering a patient of yours?"

"My sister, actually. She has a broken leg and the Normandy doesn't have a medical doctor, so we thought to bring her here, but-"

"But Huerta's limited capacity has forced them to deny her," he concludes with a hum before nodding. "I'll allow Jane to use her Spectre authority to have her admitted." Opening his Tool, he types in a few commands. "I believe the hospital will send a small team to retrieve her now."

Crossing her arms, Jane raises a brow. "Just like that? What was the big deal before?"

"There are new policies concerning Spectres. It causes suspicion when a Spectre immediately orders something to be done under their authority through a third party, especially when that Spectre isn't physically on the station."

"That really a problem?"

"The Council has made quite a few changes within the Spectres after finding out that many of their agents have other agendas besides serving the needs of the galaxy. Now they have both a C-Sec issued company that tend to their station wide needs and their Spectres are more strictly monitored when concerning the Citadel." He shrugs. "It makes my life more interesting now, but I figured that, considering the Spectre, I could take a personal visit to the docks before granting clearance."

Garrus nods, but notices that same steeled expression in the man's eyes as he did when asked about the previous Executor. Stepping closer, he lowers his voice to ask, "You know what happened to Pallin, don't you?"

"Not completely," he gets in hushed answer, Chellick's face giving nothing away. "But it wasn't as clear as it was made out to be." That's all he gets out of the Executor as he steps away, the medical team passing by and into the Normandy to retrieve his sister.

"Thank you, Decian," Garrus rumbles with a frown. "Don't hesitate to ask for help if you need it. I owe you after what you did for me." Chellick nods and turns, leaving with his officers as he and his mate wait to travel behind the medical transport and meet Solana at Huerta.

"Williams was supposedly brought here once she was stable on the Lexington," Jane suddenly says as their skycar flies through the skies towards the hospital. "I received the report when they admitted her."

Rumbling in acknowledge, unsure what exactly to say considering the tenuous relationship between the two women, he simply nods and tries for neutrality. "Are you going to visit her?"

"Yes and no." He looks to her for a moment for explanation before going back to driving and she continues with her eyes out at the image of a bright, blue sky. "I'm going as her commanding officer to make sure of her condition for my report to the Alliance, but no as her 'friend'. She made very clear where we stood with each other back on Mars. My loyalty was still questionable… hell, she ever accused me of keeping contact with Cerberus _while I was incarcerated_. After all that shit I was going through to make sure Earth wasn't defenseless!"

Hearing her frustration and anger in her voice, he reaches out to her and lets her take his hand. It seems to help because he soon hears her sigh and feels the soft stroke of her thumb over his hand before she says, "No, I'm done trying to bury the hatchet with her only to find a knife in my back. If she wants to be 'Ash' and 'Skipper' again, then it's on her ass. I put my neck out more than once and I won't do it again… there's only so many times to be burned before you stop putting your hand over the fire."

There isn't much to say to that, which is just as well because they soon arrive at the hospital, where their minds are once again on settling his family. With hope, they can find somewhere safe for, at least, the time it takes to tend to his sister's wounds because while there will never be a _true_ place to be safe from the war, she won't be in as much pain from an unset leg and may be more able to move when the time comes.

Plus, knowing she is out of the direct fight that always seems to follow the Normandy lifts a huge weight of his shoulders. This also gives him a chance to not have to find himself in a constant battle of wills against his father. As he's come to realize, their relationship is much better when they only deal with the other on passing occasions and not be in continuous proximity as they would be on the Normandy.

With his sister settled in a room and Jane done with both checking up on her former crew member's condition and finding them a medical officer –the good and trustworthy doctor, Chakwas, surprising enough – the two of them head to the Council Chambers to find out what in the universe they would want with him.


	8. Chapter 8

-Garrus-

He could tell the Council was getting on his mate's last nerves with their, once again, unwillingness to help. Why they believed withholding their armies and bunkering down until the Reapers were on them, he'd never know, but it was coming close to the point of preposterous. Didn't they realize that, the last time they tried to fight a _single_ Reaper though conventional means, it only ended in the loss of human lives and a large portion of their attacking Fleet?

"Is this _really_ going to turn into a 'our forces are better used to protect a stupid hunk of dirt'?" Jane snaps from his side. "We've already tried fighting the Reapers with soldiers and Fleets and look how that fucking turned out with Sovereign. _One_ Reaper, one! I'm not asking for that, because we all know you won't get off your asses to provide man power, but you _can_ send your scientists, your engineers, your development teams, hell, _your construction teams_. Anyone who can help build the Cruicible. Think, dammit!"

"So far," Councilor Valern interjects. "You have not given us any hard proof that this device will work, Shepard. You claim the Protheans designed it, but it is obvious it no more helped than conventional means. The resources you are asking for are just too great to aid to a cause with no guarantee."

"It's worth trying." Seeing that his wife is two seconds from biotically throwing the entire Council through the picturesque windows at their backs, he steps forward and looks between the only two Councilors holding back, the Salarian and Asari. It's no surprise, really, Udina and Sparatus are both willing given that their people are under attack _right now_. "We already know we can't fight them as it is, so why not find this Catalyst and use this weapon?"

Giving a slight shake of her head, Tevos dismisses the entire conversation with a near insulting change of subject that makes his mate clench her fists at his side. "I believe there was another reason to call you into attendance in our Chambers besides your continued insistence that we put our people in danger for Earth _or_ Palaven."

Sparatus makes a barely audible growl that Garrus only hears thanks to his visor and cybernetic supplemented ear. At least half of the Council is on their side, just a shame it will take the invasion on _their_ homes before they, too, see the need for cooperation. Even worse that, according to Jane, even the Matriarchs share their Councilor's views on their attempts at collecting forces because they refuse to attend the Summit, claiming the inclusion of the Krogan will cause nothing but failure.

"Praetor Vakarian," the Turian Councilor addresses. "We have called you here because the state of the galaxy has led to the understanding that there is a great need for the best soldiers each species has to offer."

" _Each_ species," Udina is sure to explain, as if the concept needs to be assured more to himself than anyone else. "Turian, Asari, Salarian, and human alike need individuals in the galaxy's elite, mind you."

"You mean Spectres… wait." He rumbles confused and looks between them. "What does this have to do with me?"

"Surely you can guess," Tevos adds and, yes, he can, but he just doesn't know if he should believe it given the circumstances of his less than exemplary service records. "We are not unaware that a war of this scale will need Spectres to fight, not for their species, but for the galaxy as a whole."

"Which is why we've decided to reconsider your application into the Spectres." Valern pauses and looks from him to his wife, then back. "Should you choose to accept."

"I already declined it _twice_. Why even offer it again?"

"Consider this extenuating circumstances, Praetor." It's almost strange to be given respect from the Councilor, the older man always so harsh and, quite frankly, rude. One more of the wonders of the Reapers, it seems. "We are well aware of your involvement in the apprehension of Saren Arterius, as well as your excellent military service record than lead to your first offered induction into the Spectre class training."

"That is why was we considered your reapplication after your service under Shepard despite the regulation to reject any applicants after a previous expulsion or denial on either party's part." Leave it to the Salarian Councilor to continuously bring up the past that Garrus already knew and was told a thousand times with a tone that speaks of his reluctance in this decision.

He is about to speak when the woman in the long flowing gown adds, "We can also not ignore you position of authority and merit within your own people."

Before anything else can be said to try to convince – or not convince him, he isn't sure which given the obvious disagreement on this idea – he interrupts with a step forward. "I will only _consider_ accepting under two conditions." Valern blinks in shock and he can swear Tevos' expression twitches for just a moment in annoyance at his nerve to demand anything. "First, I will never leave the Normandy or my mate. Second, I won't accept a position into the Spectres as a title, only. I want the resources, authority, and freedom that comes with being a Spectre." _And I will use that to help provide to the war effort in a way that a single Spectre cannot accomplish alone._

With a twitch of her lip, Tevos moves to speak when, shockingly, Sparatus interrupts her without hesitation. "Yes," he says, a bit hastily, and received a pointed look from his Asari counterpart. "Do you accept?"

It's no secret the woman enjoys being the head of the Council, the balance and the first and last to speak on matters, so to see that taken from her is no less entertaining. Garrus just wishes it wasn't at the price of people's lives before the complete control was taken from her. It also, in a weird turn of events, puts the two warring Councilors, Udina and Sparatus, on the same side against the other two as they both are striving to survive this war when they all still have the chance which would explain his complete lack of argument at his Spectre appointment.

Looking to his wife, he rumbles in her opinion and sees her smirk and nod. 'Oh, the trouble we can make like this', her look seems to say and he answers, looking to the Councilors. "I accept, Councilors."

With his answer, Councilor Sparatus is first to access the permissions on his podium. Then, though reluctant as expected from anything he does that doesn't directly benefit humanity, is Udina, his terminal emitting a soft tick of his key presses. The Salarian Councilor holds off before sighing and acknowledging the induction. Last, and Garrus is sure it's more out of spite for the floor being taken from her grasp, is Tevos, her blue hand hovering over the console before finally accessing it and speaking.

"Praetor Vakarian, step forward." He does, head held high as he moves forward in time with the onlookers in the higher level and feels his mate's proud smile on his back. "It is the decision of the Council that you be granted all the powers and privileges of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch of the Citadel."

"Spectres are not trained, but chosen. Individuals forged in the fire of service and battle; those whose actions elevate them above rank and file." It's as if a mirror speech of Jane's, which, he realizes, might be the case as Tevos and Valern switch between the other.

"Spectres are an ideal, a symbol. The embodiment of courage, determination, and self-reliance. They are the right hand of the Council… instruments of our will." The last bit seems forced, Udina clearing not agreeing with the words he is forced to say for the sake of ceremony. Garrus has to admit, for once, in agreeing that words during an induction are one thing, and being able to follow up with action and entirely different situation.

"Spectres bear a great burden," Sparatus adds, not that Garrus has to know that from seeing everything Jane is put through during her short stint as one. "They are the protectors of galactic peace, both our first and last line of defense. The safety of the galaxy is theirs to uphold."

At the end of the speech, marking his official induction, there are soft rumbles of approval from some of the onlookers that are only heard through his enhanced ear and, when he looks back to his wife, she whispers with the knowledge he can hear it, "Good shit, Vakarian. Can't wait to get you alone." Going up the few steps to him, she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him, the two not caring about their company as their tongues stroke and curl against the other.

"Continue this… depravity, elsewhere, Shepard." Her lips twitch in amusement as Garrus puts her down to turn the human Councilor. "You now have access to the Spectre requisitions, not that it's safe to assume you had unofficial access thanks to your… arrangement."

"It's called a marriage, jackass," his wife answers back.

"If that's all?" Garrus asks the Councilors, heart speeding at the fact that _he's a Spectre_. Sure, he expected it to feel like the galaxy was suddenly in the entirety of his hand, but time has diminished that illusion, his time seeing Jane struggle against an immovable barrier of politics destroying any thought that Spectres were untouchable. No, this excitement is more for the two of them, for the fact that, with the title of Spectre that everyone seems to focus on, he can get some things done he couldn't before.

They dismiss him and the two get into a skycar headed for the Spectre requisitions. They'll each scan through the supplies to see if they can make use of anything before separating, tending to both business and personal errands. He knows she has to deal with some Alliance requisitions before she can tend to getting supplies for the Normandy crew, while also getting their children's things and personal items for herself, and he knows his place is down on the docks, where refugees are now being housed that come in from the war torn colonies and planets, before he can grant himself the chance to acquire things for life on a ship again.

When they arrive at the Embassies, he isn't shocked to see what must be the worst report on the Citadel hounding a C-Sec commander that, from the back, still looks awfully familiar. "I will say it, once again, there is no anti-humanity conspiracy here, Ms. Al-Jilani. The Council's simply not granting interviews at this time."

The woman, like a bad case of plate rot that never goes away without a fight, crosses her arms and protests. "My viewers are going to know that C-Sec and the Council are denying them access."

Rubbing his forehead, the man Garrus now recognizes as the Captain that had helped them with Thane's son, Bailey, sighs. "Listen, lady, you think I like playing gatekeeper between the paparazzi and the politicians? Because I don't. I don't have time to babysit them. And I definitely don't have time to stand around and hold your hand."

"You either grant me an audience or you get used to me camping out here until one of us gives in… and I can promise you I never give up on a good story."

"Fine," he answers. "Not like you're stopping _me_ from going home."

"Humanity has questions!"

"And _I'll_ answer them," Jane interrupts with a scowl and Garrus takes pride in the slight flinch of the woman, knowing the last two meetings between the women resulted in flying fists. "But you can wait your happy little ass over there," she adds with a jerk of her head to another, quieter area of the Embassy floor and, despite her bark of indignation, Al-Jilani listens, leaving the Captain be.

"Thanks for running off the press, Commander." He offers a hand that each of them takes. "Heard you were running around the Citadel somewhere."

"Captain Bailey, I see you've earned a 'promotion'."

"It's 'Commander', now, for whatever good that is." He motions to follow as he starts to walk through the lobby of the Embassy, towards the private offices. "Now half my job is dealing with political bullshit concerning the Council and escorting dignitaries around."

Humming, Garrus nods. "So you're part of that new C-Sec division the Executor mentioned? The one that deals with Citadel based security and defense for the Councilors and Ambassadors?"

"Yeah, that's the real pretty way of saying it. If it was my choice, I'd be back on the streets, but only you have the balls to say 'no' to Councilor Udina. I still gotta live here." They chuckle as he shakes his head, stopping before what must be his office. "Not that it means anything, but if there's anything you need I can help with, let me know."

"We'll be sure to remember that," Jane says as goodbye before turning to Garrus, smiling as she wraps her arms around his neck, kissing him. "My big, bad Spectre."

That makes him chuckle as he presses his forehead to hers. "You were the Spectre first." She shrugs. "What? Not good enough?"

"Got that just because no one else would do the work, doesn't count." Smirking, she ducks her head to suck on the hide just under his chin, making his breath stutter. "We should 'celebrate' tonight once the twins are asleep."

"I can definitely be convinced."

"Oh, I know you can." She gently pulls him down to whisper in his ear, "But I have an idea to try… but sure you wear your Sunday's best… _Master_." That last word, in such a seductive purr, makes him growl. Sure, they role-played before, but never in a way that has her calling him 'Master'. How is he supposed to focus for the entire rest of the day thinking about _that_? And why was he suddenly so turned on by the idea? Maybe it has something to do with his enjoyment of taking her away from the Commander Shepard and letting her be just Jane, a woman who, secretly, enjoys being dominated, but where did _Master_ come from?

"I… uh… yeah?" She snorts, dropping all seduction to snicker smugly at him. Collecting his wits quickly because of it, he gives her an unamused look. "Alright, first, you can't just spring that on me and expect a coherent answer immediately after. Second, where did that even _come from_?"

Jane shrugs and smiles. "I had a shit ton of free time to do nothing and I was horny as hell when I was pregnant, so I got into reading smutty books. Horrible writing, but it gave me ideas on how we could improve." Smirking, she runs a hand up his keel, making his purr drop an octave. "And I want to try playing slave and Master, so something like it."

"Yeah… I don't know if you notice, but I certainly don't have experience for something like that-"

"Then improvise," she interrupts with a smile, pulling him into a hug with her arms looped around his waist. "Just take everything away from me tonight." Seeing her frown, he cups her chin and kisses her softly. "I just need a break, Garrus… I need _you_."

"And I need you," he purrs in response, running his fingers through her hair. "Let go tonight and I will take the entire lead, be your … 'Master'. Whatever that is."

Snorting, she smiles and nods, letting him go. Together, they manage to requisition some things for the crew and Normandy. On their way out of the Embassy, Jane actually keeps her world and finds the reporter, but, surprising enough, it doesn't end as he had thought.

Instead of simply punching the woman for calling Jane and the Alliance cowards or insinuating that their marriage was why it seemed like the Hierarchy and Alliance were moving together against the other species, his wife merely grabs the woman's dress and yanks the woman close. With a scowl, she declaring, "Go ahead and spread as many rumors as you will about me, but you know what? It won't do a damned thing to stop me." She releases the woman, continuing. "You're scared, I get that. You also hate me, I get that too. But you know what? If it makes you feel better, feel safer, to turn me into the villain, the monster, then do it. Why? Because it doesn't matter if you like me or not, I will still drag every last one of you fuckers to victory if I have to drag you kicking and screaming."

Khalisah is stunned, merely blinking in shock, most likely, at not being silenced by an assault, before she clears her throat. "Well, that's certainly something worth seeing, Commander."

"And you will, because I'm offering you a once in lifetime chance. You think you can sit behind your camera and judge me and my men or the militaries fighting this war without even having evidence? Word from people actually _fighting_ the war?" His wife crosses her arms, motioning the camera. "You want your viewers to know the truth, then I will give you the info you want. _Exclusively_. Only under one condition, you don't turn this into anti-war propaganda. You aren't stupid, so I'm sure you know how something like fear mongering could affect the war for your supposed 'viewers' and their families."

"And you're just giving me this information? What for?" She narrows her eyes in suspicion.

"To stop this bullshit of undermining the allied forces," Jane answers. "Actually support the war like you care about people's lives and I'll tell you whatever I can that's not classified."

"How do I know you won't just give me some fake comm channel hail? That you'll keep up your end."

"Well, for starters, I know you won't leave me the fuck alone every time I come to the Citadel if I don't." Dropping her hands, Jane looks the woman over with a stern expression. "What's it going to be? One time only offer."

"I…" Khalisah looks to her camera, thinking before she answers. "Yes. Yes, I want that exclusive." Jane nods and opens her Tool, sending the woman the Normandy's public communications channel, this deal something they'll need to let Traynor know about so she doesn't automatically reject the comm. "Thank you, Commander," she whispers as she looks from them, her fury gone at the unexpected change in Jane over the time between their meetings.

He waits until the woman before he turns to his wife with a considering rumble. "That was an… interesting idea."

"You mean finally using her to our benefit?" She shrugs and watches where the reporter seems to be talking on her Omni-Tool. "She's scared, and her viewers are scared, I see that now. Fear and anger is easier than understanding, than courage in the face of evil, but if I can send information to help people not turn that fear into a weapon the Reapers can use, then I'll bury the grudges."

"And keeping her off the ship helps to keep some certain things unexposed," he adds and she nods, taking his hand to give it a squeeze. They both know it's not war sensitive data they're protecting, but it's simply easier to not mention their twins outside of the safety of their home.

"I should go, Garrus. There is still so much to do before we have to leave tonight." Sighing, Jane leans up on her toes and kisses his cheek. "Don't get too stressed down there." Rumbling, he nods and turns to her as she whispers, "I, selfishly, need you strong so I can be strong."

"Always, Jane," he whispers back as he caresses a mandible against her cheek, letting her go.

* * *

Walking into the Loft from the bathroom after getting dressed in the late hours after their children have fallen asleep - allowing his mate to dress, or undress, in the main room- in his newest semi-formal military uniform, he doesn't expect to see exactly what his own surprise is.

If he's dressed up in his dark blue and gold trimmed suit, she's definitely dressed down in a sheer lace bra that crosses over her breasts in just the right way to cover her nipples and wraps around her neck, then upper ribs to leave her back almost completely bare. Her crotch is covered in almost a reverse pattern, her panties forming a 'V' in the lace to _just_ cover her folds, folds that had to be wet already from the scent of her in the air.

He has to swallow down the growl as he comes down to her, getting into a character he isn't quite sure how to play. With hopes, he won't completely mess up the point that she has to carry the night, which would be the exact _opposite_ of what they're trying to do. Rumbling, he reaches out and tangles his fingers in the curls on her shoulder, the strands looping around his gloved digits.

"I can smell you, slave." He jerks her hair, receiving a gasp. "Have I given you permission?"

"N…no, sir." That gains another sharp tug at her hair and he relishes in the way she bites her lip before correcting. "Forgive me, Master."

Growling, he goes to the couch and sits. "Come." She immediately comes to him, following his motion to bend over his knee, and he doesn't bother fighting the odd interest in this game. Sure, it's no surprise they enjoy when he is the dominant partner, but this new game is a nice change from the animalistic rutting and biting they usually do.

"You will earn forgiveness," he says as he caresses her butt cheek, slapping it lightly to gauge her reaction, which is along the lines of 'very good' at the gasp and wiggle of her hips. She definitely wanted this and may not even last very long from the anticipation alone, it seems. "Count."

With that, he slaps her across the ass, making her gasp and her hands clench on his opposite leg. "One." Another slap gets a moaned, "Two." A third, a moaned count that he bites his tongue not to match as his plates stir and open. The fourth slap as his mate arching on his lap, hands gripping his pants as she pants out, "Four." Unable to go much longer like this without losing his will not to throw her to the ground and just fuck, he slaps her hard enough to make the already red cheek blossom in a bright red handprint with three long fingers. "Five!"

"Five, what?" he growls as he pushes her off to make her catch herself on hands and knees.

"Five… Master…," she pants, squeezing her thighs together.

He rumbles and stands before her, now pressed firmly to and straining painfully against the front of his pants. Needing out of these stifling clothes before he just rips them off, and wastes the credits he had to pay for them, he orders, "Get up and undress me."

He's never seen her move so fast out of combat as she jumps up and, even with her haste, carefully removes his gloves, jacket, shirt, then boots and pants. The chill air is still a surprise to him when he is first freed from his confining trousers, but he turns the slight shiver to his vocals with a relieved sigh, growling as he smirks at her watching him in that same awe she's always had.

"Slave, on your knees." When she obeys, he cups the back of her head to pull her closer and takes himself in the other, languidly stroking. "Pleasure me with your hands and I _might_ let you taste me."

He watches as she licks her lips in anticipation and replaces his hand with both of hers, starting to pump him. Growling to hide the moan, he looks down at her, watching her tiny, slightly cold, hands wrap around him as best they can given his size and move as she bites her lips to fight the urge to lick. He smirks at that and pushes her head to him with his head at the back of her head, actually moaning when her lips wrap around his head and hands continue working him.

With tongue, lips, and hands, he doesn't last long before he's pulling her off and thrusting into her hands, grunting. Holding her away from him, knowing she'll want more than to taste his completion, he growls as he tenses, pulsing in her hands as he cums, covering her gasping face, throat, and clothed chest. The sight is… incredible, to see her covered in his iridescent seed with wide, hungry eyes and thick scent in the air he is itching to flick his tongue out and taste, but can't else it would ruin the game.

Collecting himself, he throws on a look of disassociated interest. "What do you say, slave?"

"Thank you, Master," she says, catching on quick, but still sneaking out a tongue to lick her lips.

He'll let her have that one, though, as he has much more interesting things in mind. Going to the desk, he finds the cuffs he requisitioned for his new Spectre appointment which may or may not have been intended for purposes not entirely associated with apprehending criminals. "Hands in front of you."

He cuffs her and hauls her to her feet using them, dragging her towards an overhead strut exposed from the Alliance's refurbishing efforts. Lifting them to be locked again over the beam, he smirks at the sight of her barely balancing on the tips of her little toes. The position does some very interesting things to her body and he runs the tips of his talons over her side, growling at her shaky gasp and the way her skin prickles.

Circling her, he rumbles in appreciation as he comes up behind her, pressing his still hard length against her back in delight to her shiver. Garrus runs his hands roughly down her sides and pushes off her panties, biting his tongue at the moan of her scent becoming so strong in the air. Instead, he speaks. "You enjoy serving me."

"Yes, Master," she sighs, shifting to spread her legs in silent plea for relief. He gives it to her, somewhat, when he slides a hand down and a finger into her, making her buck and moan.

"I won't pleasure you. You will do it yourself," he growls and thrusts his finger once in explanation.

Moaning, she starts to move, slow and steady given her lack of leverage. It's still incredible to watch, the muscles from her arms to her beautiful legs tense and straining as she tries to move herself around his finger, thrusting onto him instead of he within her.

He doesn't give her any assistance as he simply holds his hand still, using every ounce of willpower, but that doesn't change the fact that, with her already so worked up, she is close. Her walls are already trembling around him, quivering in anticipation, but, just as her moves are beginning to lose focus, he pulls back. She whines, but doesn't speak, and her seed soaked chest heaves in an unspent climax.

"I told you pleasure, not completion, slave," he snarls and slaps her opposite cheek, the red handprint still vivid enough that he wants to keep it in tact. She cries out in desire, her arousal trailing down her thighs and he rounds her, sliding a finger up her thigh to bring it to her mouth. "Lick me clean."

Moaning, she listens, wrapping her lips around his finger as he nearly black eyes look into his. He growls when he feels her tongue teasing the sensitive pads of his finger, not shying from his talon in fear like any lesser lover would. Unable to hold back any longer, he yanks his finger from her mouth and wraps his own around her throat, holding her without the bite of teeth, but just close enough to now feel her moan instead of just hear it.

Taking that as her consent, he lifts her legs over his hips and immediately spears her, growling at her outward cry and buck. He won't give her the time to grow accustomed to him, however, as he starts to thrust into her, quite literally taking from her as their hips make the loudest noises in the room. How his children can continue to sleep through it, he'll never know, but there's too little blood in his brain to contemplate his children's lack of awareness at such a young age right now.

Her litany of curses and moans against their play are forgotten as he focuses solely on mating his wife, making this moment nothing but his length spreading her walls with such force she won't be able to walk straight tomorrow, his smell so deep within her that they will merge like they have within their offspring. Thrumming and snarling around her throat, he clenches his eyes and speeds up, soon feeling her chin hitting his fringe in some sort of pattern.

Having enough mind to remember, he jerks from her throat and slams their mouths together just as her body goes taut, her lips parting to scream a muffled cry of ecstasy as her walls constrict in a rhythm around him. That alone undoes him, a heavy growl vibrating through them as she successfully milks him of everything he has. Despite being sunk into her to his plates, he can feel his own seed attempting to escape and knows there will be quite the mess to clean, but can't seem to 'give two shits' as Jane likes to say.

They stay like that, he still buried within her and kissing languidly until her arms begin to ache. He then removes her cuffs and carries her to bed while remaining within her, which wasn't as difficult as he imagined given the widened base of his shaft – probably one of those evolutionary vestiges I never paid attention to in instruction.

Laying together, they both check the twins sleeping in their bedside bassinet before removing the last of her soiled clothes and using them to wipe her clean. With her dirty laundry tossed away, they get comfortable and ready for sleep, knowing that tomorrow brings them on the way to the location of the Summit that will be held within the next few day cycles, depending on the adjusted ETAs thanks to the Reaper presence.


	9. Chapter 9

-Jane-

She is here again, this place of cold and silence clouded by a blanket of fog, but with a purpose, a direction if there is such a thing here.

She must find the children, follow the laughter and patters of bare feet over the concrete.

Ignored are the towering monsters in the mist, their heavy footfalls making no noise in her ears as she runs, chasing much smaller shadows. If she can only reach them, she can fool herself into thinking they are safe, but, she knows, even here, the falsehood of safety never lasts.

She is not alone in her hunt, she can tell. No, there is something else here with much heavier steps than her own, whirring clicks and near quiet growls from the fog the only signs of its presence. Whatever it is, it stays beyond her sights, behind the shadows, save for a pair of glowing blue eyes, gone as quickly as they appear.

A giggle grabs her attention and she runs, rounding the corner to what looks like a school building from the chalk drawings on the ground that make little sense to her. Standing there before her are the two most beautiful children she's ever seen, _her_ children.

Her son and daughter, and she never needs to be assured the two are really what she thinks, look at her the moment she sees them, stopping whatever game they're playing. A moment of silence passes before they grin deviously and run, their ball discarded and immediately growing flat at their loss.

"Wait!" She runs after them, sprinting as fast as she can but still moving no faster than a crawl compared to the pace of their little legs. In a flash, her son and daughter are gone to the darkness and she doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to stop them from running into the danger she knows is towering right above them.

Panting with burning lungs, she stops with her hands on her knees, nearly collapsing in exhaustion. She knows it's this place that's draining her so quickly, but she hates herself anyways, inwardly curses herself for letting them escape her grasp. So close to them, yet so far away, is all she can think as she fists her hands in the air, groaning in frustration.

As if hearing her defeat, that same sound of snickering snaps her head up and there - right there down the street - are the two little children in their slightly disheveled from playing clothes. She can't help the hopeful smile as she reaches out a gentle hand, trying to plead for them to stay as she tries to close the distance, her feet never seeming to come any closer.

Mere steps into her struggle through the fog and the source of that clicking and growling makes itself known. Cutting through the fog before her, standing tall, is a husk of a living person, but not the twisted forms of humans, but the demented, broken and perverted image of a Turian.

A Turian with blue over his cheek and mandible on one side and large, ropey scars along the other.

"No… Oh God, no…" She whispers as it approaches from behind their children. Seeing him, her love, so broken, so twisted into the image of the Reapers is a heart shattering fear that sends her to her knees. "Please… Garrus."

Tilting its head in confusion, the thing that took her husband brushes past their smiling children, purring a disjointed, mechanical sound as it approaches. She sobs, hiccuping and gasping for air as its hand reaches out and, despite every part of her screaming she should be fearful of a Reaper's touch, she only sees the blue of his eyes in its metal skull.

Its ghost of a touch to her cheek brings new tears, wails of pain that only strengthen when it turns from her, going to the smiling and purring twins. Each of her children take its hands and, trying as hard as she can, she cannot force herself to her feet or composure, the fog around her like shackles on her body and mind.

"Garrus! Please!" She screams to it, pain and fear in her every jagged breath. "Don't leave me! Please," she whispers, begging as its form begins to fade in the shadows, "Please don't leave me alone…"

* * *

She wakes with a weak gasp, widen eyes skipping over the room before her senses take in her surroundings.

The room is barely lit from the source of the bubbling in the distance, at her back is the soft rumbling snore of her husband and before her the soft, sleeping smacks of dreams of mealtime, the only thing their twins look forward to right now, it seems. Next is the feeling of a chill in her bones - not helped by the window above their bed the Alliance thought was a great fucking idea to reveal - that is melted the closer to the body at her back she scoots and by the soothing weight of the arm slung over her waist and the hard muscle and plate beneath her head. When she turns her head, she can smell the soothing scent beneath her cheek that is uniquely his, worn leather heated by a bright sun with an almost spicy musk. Last, her fingers itch to touch as she runs her palm up his arm to his hand, linking her fingers in his and smiling at his squeeze.

One hand in his, she reaches her other out to their sleeping children. Gently caressing over Damocles' mandible makes him attempt to nibble at her finger, but without teeth, it merely brings a bigger grin to her lips. Why her dreams torture her with the only things she loves in this universe, she wants - needs - to know, even when it doesn't change how hard she will fight to ensure her worst fears don't even come _close_ to being fulfilled.

She should have known even the slightest of movements would attract attention, for she's soon made aware she isn't the only one awake. She first notices the change in the grip on her hand, the more controlled squeeze, before the arm over her waist shifts to lay a warm palm over her belly. "Bad dream?"

"You never have them, do you?" She asks as she rolls to face him, letting their children sleep - _they'll wake soon enough screaming for food like they did a few hours ago, anyway,_

Rumbling, he strokes the back of a finger over her nose and says, "I used to, but now the only thing worth worrying about is what's out there. But then that'd be a waste of good sleep, sleep we barely get as it is with the babies."

She snorts softly and nods. "True. Wish it were that easy to shut mine off."

"Jane…" He sighs and cups her cheek, to which she leans in. "I only ever had nightmares on Omega. Never had them before or after, so I can't imagine what you're seeing or experiencing." At her frown, he shifts and soon she feels his breath against her face and his forehead to hers. "That doesn't mean I'm not here to help you through it. Don't get lost in them, Jane."

"I'll try," She whispers before sliding closer to him on the bed, pressing tightly to his front as he purrs with his arms holding her close. "I dreamt of you and-"

Seeing that moment as the perfect time to want food, the twins begin to cry in tandem. She will never be able to know why they seem to have that secret ability to both need attention, food, sleep, or a change at the _exact same time_ , but at least it gives them a reason to only get up once for each crying session to tend to both than to tend to them at two separate occasions.

She and Garrus get up together and take to their children, Cassia always quieting easier to his purrs and coos and Damocles paying more mind to his mother's soothing voice and rhythmic humming. Luckily, they have plenty of baby supplies up in their Loft to not have to run the risk of taking their supposed-to-not-exist human Turian children all over the Normandy more than they have to. It wouldn't be safe to parade their 'happy little family' in front of many of the crew than most likely left loved ones back on Earth, a crew that could be scared, worried, and looking somewhere to aim those emotions other than this inescapable war.

She gently soothes the baby in her arms as she uses the odd shaped Turian spoon for infants, feeding what looks so similar to her own people's smashed up baby mush. The only difference here is most all the dishes she found were meat based and still had shredded up pieces of whatever food they were mixed it, and they smelled funny to her own nose.

Not that she cared all that much. Hell, she was overjoyed that the normally fussy babies were actually more interested in food now than they ever were, sucking down every last oddly-shaped spoonful. They didn't even need the tricks of dabbing their food covered fingers in their mouths or, as Garrus first tried and learned the hard way, show them it was good to eat by trying a bit on their own. It was a fun experience to watch her Turian husband turn green and nearly puke while two little babies chirped and made garbling sounds that sounded an awful lot like giggles, or so Jane would assume.

"Shepard, we have reached the Annos Basin," EDI announces over the system as Jane just finishes up feeding their son, unconsciously opening and closing her mouth in time with her son's. "Both the Krogan and Salarians have agreed on the Normandy as a neutral meeting ground for negotiations. Shall I alert Joker to dock at each and receive the negotiating Dalatrass and Urdnot Clan leader?"

Sighing, she wipes Damocles' mouth and gives the empty jar to her mate's offered hand. "Yes, EDI. And have them taken to the Conference Room on Deck Two. Is Liara awake?"

"Yes, Shepard. Would you like me to ask her if she is available to assist with tending to your children?"

"Yes." The comm audibly clicks off, a requested feature of many aboard to make sure EDI wasn't intentionally listening in a way that Joker, too, could overhear. It seemed almost like the AI was getting _too_ used to her new body in, more than once according to crew stories over Mess, manually using the intercom and forgetting to close it. EDI hearing in wasn't the problem, but the running mouth that was the pilot was and the less he knew about what Jane and her husband did up here, the better.

"You really want me down there?" Garrus tilts his head in curiosity as he follows her to the desk turned changing table, gently holding their daughter to his keel. "I just figured-"

"You'd calibrate while I did all the hard work?" She smirks and chuckles at his exasperated sigh. "Besides, you're a Spectre _and_ Praetor now, so you need to be there with your Primarch… and your wife. You can't leave me to deal with diplomats alone."

Seeing her pouted lip, he snorts and shakes his head, but agrees, "Fine, fine. I'll be there. Though two Turians might look bad."

"Tough." Tickling their son's now full belly, she holds her breath as she opens up the Turian diaper, quickly tossing it and grabbing a warm wipe her mate offers. As she cleans off the baby's cloaca, he then hands her a clean cloth and holds the fresh clothes in his hands. Tying up the cloth into a diaper with practiced ease – which really just means she only had to start again once more – she smiles as she clothes their now clean son.

"Whew… _Stinky_ boy," she jokes at the chirping baby, really knowing that, while not the smell of roses, their children's smell isn't _that_ bad. Or at least not as bad as vids make them out to be. Shouldering him, she looks to her husband. "Your turn."

"'My turn'? What ever happened to us going into hell together?"

She laughs loud at that and offers their son for a trade. "You're such a lazy piece of shit, you know that? Come here, little girl." Chuckling together, they move to repeat the process with their daughter, talking through the held breaths. "You willing to convince Victus of whatever Wrex is going to ask for?"

"So long as it isn't the death of Turians, then yeah," he answers, rubbing Damocles' back in soothing circles as she just finishes up. "But I think even he knows we will have to make a deal and he's willing, he just doesn't want to waste time – what do you say?"

"Pussy footing around?" she supplies with a smirk and chuckle at his nod.

"Yeah, that." Following her to the crib, he gently lays Cassia beside her brother, the two sharing warmth. "To be honest, it's not the two of them I'm worried about, it's the Dalatrass and the lack of the Asari. From what the Councilor told you, the Salarian government is going into this already waiting to say 'no' to anything Wrex says." They both begin to dress, she in her dress blues and he – surprise, surprise – in his newest set of silver and blue armor. "It doesn't bode well."

"I know," she agrees as she hastily starts to try and tame her wild locks, smiling when she feels his talons combing through her hair to help as he always does. That gives her the chance to finish up buttoning and pinning whatever she always manages to miss, it being so long since she's worn formal blues. "I'm willing to knock in heads if I have to, though. The Dalatrass thinks she can control the board by running off the Asari because she's pissed off, then I'll show all them who the bigger bitch queen on this ship is."

"You sound like Aria," he says with a chuckle as he completes her hair as best as can be done given the time and tends to the last of his armor.

Scowling at her image in the mirror, she snorts at his remark. "Aria doesn't do diplomacy. Lucky blue bitch." Both as ready as they'll ever be, she heads to the door just as T'Soni comes in. "Liara, sorry to dump them on you so early-"

A raised hand stops her, followed by a smile as she says, "It's alright Shepard. I was already awake, so a change of company and scenery is nice." Pausing, she removes an OSD from her white jacket and hands it over. "Poe has been looking into leads for me concerning anything that can help us translate the blueprints for the Prothean device, maybe help to find out what the Catalyst is, and she found something on Eden Prime. Shepard, I think it may help us decipher the rest."

"You mean if we're lucky," Jane rebukes with a sigh and tosses the OSD onto her desk to take a look at after the negotiations. "I'll give it a look and see what we can do." Giving a nod to Liara in thanks and passing, they take the lift down to the CIC and make haste to the already ongoing negotiations.

"I have no time for it. Just tell us what you want." Victus' voice is firm as always, which is good considering Wrex's sounds all too angered – must have been something the Salarians did or said.

"I'll tell you what I need… a cure for the Genophage."

"Absolutely not! The Genophage is-"

"Something that your people should be ashamed of," Jane interrupts, the door sliding behind them at a nod in greeting between the three old friends. "Whatever the reasons were then, it's time to stop living in the damn past."

"A past one thousand, four hundred, and seventy-six _years_ in the past, if you're keeping track," Wrex adds.

The Dalatrass throws her hands, enunciating with her hands against Wrex's scowl and whatever near silent conversation Garrus and the Primarch are having. "It was a thousand years of peace! Free from these… uncivilized brutes!"

"Enough!" Victus cuts in, stepping forwards and fueled by whatever her husband shared with him. "Whether or not they deserve a cure is academic. What's important is that it would take time to formulate one, even for someone who currently has information beneficial to its development." He gives a pointed look to the Dalatrass, who simply crosses her arms with a raised chin. _Should have known Garrus would remember Mordin, that old genius bastard._

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Primarch, and I find you blatant insinuation insulting."

"I know of this 'information'," Wrex snaps at her, giving Garrus a nod in Jane's sure is thanks. "A Salarian scientist, Maleon, grew something you slithering bastards don't have, a conscience. He was on my planet testing a cure on our females."

Jane looks to him, not sure if this information – and the fact that they don't even know where Mordin is to help – can really bring about a cure in time. "We saved the data he had, but his experiments killed all the test subjects."

"That's where you're wrong, Shepard." He walks over to the room's image projector and links up his tool to a vid that seems like it was filmed in secret, low and unsteady as if the camera is being head at one's side or on their clothes. "There were surviving females, but the Dalatrass here sent in a team to clean up the whole mess…" The image focuses on a set of what looks like glass containers, within the forms of Krogan, slightly shorter and sporting a much shorter hump. _Female_. "These damn Salarians took them prisoner."

"Where," the Dalatrass sputters, looking around the room as she turns to each, all except the angered Krogan. "This could be a fabrication!"

"Don't insult me!" Wrex slams his fists against the table, leaving noticeable dents. "Those are my people! They're immune and you're going to give them back!"

"So it is true," The older Turian looks to the angered Krogan, rumbling in thought, and for the first time since trying to maintain a level of clear-vocaled neutrality. "Dalatrass, how long have you known about this? Kept these women?"

"How will curing the Genophage benefit my people?" Deflection under pressure, always a sure way to make show your enemy they have won, bested you.

"'Join or die'," The red head quotes an old saying from a long ago human war, turning her attention to the woman. "You deny the Krogan, you make an enemy out of Krogan, Turian, and human alike."

"The Commander is right," The Primarch and Praetor stand beside the Krogan, an invisible way between everyone and the single Dalatrass. "Refuse to return the females and Garrus and I will be the last friendly Turians you ever see."

"I wouldn't say I'm _friendly_ right now," Garrus corrects with a growl, crossing his arms. _Good man, hate the damn woman openly for me._

Seeing the Salarian woman rubbing a circular pattern over her hooded forehead in frustration fueled thought, Jane says with a mirror of her mate's stance. "Time to make your choice, Dalatrass Linron."

There is a tense silence as the woman must be running through options, through inevitabilities, in her head before, finally, she sighs in defeat. Her voice is a near whisper as she speaks, but the barely hidden anger is obvious. "The females are being kept at one of our STG bases on Sur'Kesh-"

"Garrus-"

"On it," he responds without any real order, nearly storming from the room to set for their destination and be ready the _second_ they rid themselves of the Dalatrass.

"I warn you, all of you! The consequences of your selfish, reckless actions-"

"Don't mean a damn to me if the Reapers win, so you can shove your consequences up whatever hole you shit out of." Wrex chuckles at that as she turns to him, motioning with her head and ignoring the Salarian. "I know better than to expect you to stay out, so get prepped to get your females."

"You are _not_ setting foot on Sur'Kesh! Something like this needs time to-"

Growling, Victus actually steps before the Dalatrass, cutting off her tirade with a glare. "The Normandy has two Spectres aboard. The exchange happens _now_."

"Primarch Victus, Wrex, see yourselves to whatever station you need to prepare. This negotiation is over." She waits until the others take their leave, Wrex with a clear direction in his step, before turning to the other woman. "Someone will see you to your ship." _Which is a nice way of saying get the fuck off my ship, you dumb bitch_.

"I won't forget this, Commander! A bully has few friends when she needs them most!"

Storming out which a jerk of her head to Campbell to see out the Dalatrass, she promises to never forget this as well. After all, stupidity like hers are one of the most dangerous things right now for this war.

She finds Wrex waiting, impatiently, beside Garrus at the Galaxy Map. There's not much they can do until they disconnect with the Dalatrass' ship, but she knows it's not in his nature to sit around waiting when he _knows_ where he should be. It is something the two of them share, but she may actually have a remedy to help distract the old Krogan.

"Shepard."

"Wrex." He nods in greeting as she comes to him, jerking her head to the lift. "Come with me. You won't do anything her but get pissed when the Dalatrass passes, so I think I will show you something."

"Not interested."

She chuckles and smirks, saying, "Oh, I think you will be." At his scowl, she smiles warmly. "I think it can help reassure you that this cure is possible."

That gets his attention as his head jerks to look at her completely. Garrus leans on the railing to hide his smirk, she sees, as the Krogan demands, "You have something for the Genophage?"

"I might. Or, at least, it could help if we ever manage to get Mordin on board. He'd know best how to use it."

"Spit it out, dammit."

"Me, Wrex… or, well, a part of me." She pats her belly and explains when he scowls in confusion, probably assuming she's playing a cruel joke. "Look, it might be easier to show you, but Mordin himself knew of tech in me that could do some pretty awesome shit. Pretty sure he has data on it, probably tried to mix it with Maleon's data."

"What the hell it is?" One of his scaled brows lift, eyes squinted in that all-too-Wrex look of confused suspicion.

Rumbling, Garrus finally manages to control himself and stand, looking to them. "She had twins, Wrex. _My_ twins."

She was _expecting_ something akin to the stunned confusion she and her husband had when they first found out, but not what he _actually_ does. Instead of gaping in shock, he grins wide and says, "Where are they, then? And why didn't you just spit it out?"

Chuckling, she shakes her head. "Should have known…" With a wave of her hand to follow, she heads to the lift and hits the command for their Cabin, knowing Garrus will plot the course and head up as soon as he is able.

"I take it you popped them out on Earth?"

She snorts. "'Pop' isn't the word I'd use, more like they were ripped right out of me by a witchdoctor." She holds up a hand, flexing her fingers into 'claws' to illustrate, but he merely shakes his head, unconvinced. "No? Fine. Then I was put under and they gave me a C-Section. So boring."

"You're jokes have gotten worse, Shepard."

"Again, it's technically Vakarian. And secondly, I was up nearly all night carrying for babies, so you can just shut the fuck up and pretend." She smirks and bumps his armored side as the doors open to the Loft. "Now how about you meant my son and daughter?"

Liara, sitting on the couch while reading a datapad with the carrying crib beside her, stands and smiles wide. "Wrex," she says as she goes to him, hugging the massive Krogan, if a bit awkwardly given his full armor. "It's been a long time."

"See you're back with Shepard."

She nods and looks to Jane. "I take it that the negotiations went well."

"As well as possible. We're headed to Sur'Kesh, so be ready in case I need a big drop." The young Asari nods and takes her datapad, smiling at their old friend before heading out. "Well," Jane starts as the doors close and she goes to the crib. "I guess it's time," she leans and picks up Cassia, figuring it better to start with the less attitude driven of the twins, "You meet Cassia."

She's never seen the look in Wrex's eyes as he takes her daughter in his, his wide hands dwarfing her in a similar, yet different, manner as her father's. He goes awfully quiet, red eyes just looking over the tiny form pawing at the air, and Jane almost wonders if the Krogan is still thinking about the heady talk downstairs when he slowly begins to emit a sound that builds into a loud guffaw.

Sighing in relief, Jane chuckles with him and sits beside him with Damocles on her shoulder. "And here I thought you were going to insult my motherly skills or something."

"Still might," he grumbles with a smirk as he lifts Cassia up, eyes squinting as he looks her over. "Looks too much like her whelp of a father." Jane snorts at that, before he corrects. "Got fingers like you."

"Yeah, they don't have too much from me. Mostly all genetic, from what Mordin said – or whatever I could understand."

"You sound like me with all that science crap." He hums and looks to her son, cradling Cassia in an arm and reaching out towards Damocles. He must touch him in a way that angers her feisty little boy, because he soon growls and grips onto her shirt, but that just makes Wrex laugh. "Like his mother, then."

"Huh? How so?"

"Trust me, Shepard. He will be. Name?"

"Damocles." He frowns, affronted. "What now?"

"You didn't name either after me."


	10. Chapter 10

-Garrus-

Hi wife has a faraway look in her eyes as she hums to herself, head bobbing to some sort of song to calm her nerves. In a way, the shuttle seems like a step back into the easier days hunting Saren, Wrex, Liara, Jane, and himself all cramped together in full armors while they prepare for a drop. Sure, they all have new scars and changes, physical and not, but it's almost eerily similar to the Turian standing beside one of the hatch's controls, hand gripping the bar welded to the low ceiling.

Wrex is the first to break the silence when he growls and looks to the red head. "I still don't know how you can trust these Salarian bastards."

"I don't trust anything that has to do with politics, but we have no choice. You want your females, you learn to play diplomat." Standing, she raises her eyes to the dual reds of their Krogan friend before smirking. "And if we have to knock together a few heads, let's be sure to use Spectre authority."

"These females are the best and probably last hope for my people. You can't expect me to play nice if they try anything."

"We'll bring them back, Wrex." It's sort of strange to see a, once again, new side to the young Asari, from naïve, to angry, and now this calming force, but, then again, they all seem to have changed. He isn't really happy to acknowledge all this change is because of a force threatening the galaxy, but there's no sense arguing with the truth. "You aren't alone. Don't worry."

"I appreciate that, Liara. I wouldn't want anyone else along for the ride," Wrex says with a nod in thanks, but Garrus has something to say of his own, clearing his throat.

"Ouch, Wrex. And here I thought we had some sort of bonding moment back on the Normandy."

"I suppose I can find some sort of thanks for you deep down around my plated backside." The old Krogan chuckles a snarky laugh.

He shrugs as Jane steps into the cockpit to check their approach with the pilot, a nice enough guy if a bit tormented by his own loss of this long running war. "Figured those plates would be worn out by now with all that sitting on your throne. Still think you can fire that thing?"

"Enough chit chat, ladies," his wife orders as she comes out of the cockpit, hitting his back in cue to get ready to drop. "We're dropping in less than five-"

"Commander," Cortez interrupts. "Salarian ground control says we doing have clearance to land."

"I knew it! Those damn pyjaks!" Growling, Wrex charges the opposite hatch, ignoring Jane's half serious attempt to stop him. "Let's see them try to stop a Krogan airdrop." He roars as he charges and drops like a weight to the landing pad, shouting something about his females as Salarians rush to surround and subdue him.

"Did he?" Liara asks him as she looks out the hovering shuttle with wide eyes.

"I'd say so," he answers with a smirk as the Krogan throws them, the team obviously not knowing Wrex was a battle-hardened biotic. The fun is over, though, when they target his friend with long range snipers, making Garrus sigh and shake his head. "Jane, we're dropping."

She is a split second behind them to drop out, the three landing and two Spectres moving between Wrex and the soldiers. A tense negotiation between that results in Wrex being 'detained' while they move forward and collect the females. Leaving the angry Krogan behind worries Garrus to no end, but there isn't much that can be done, so he follows this man, Padok Wiks, through some sort of research and science facility.

"Is that _really_ a yahg," Jane asks with a raised brow as a massive tank is transported on a crane overhead. "Are you people bat-shit crazy or just dumb as rocks?"

"Goddess, I'd hope to never see one of those again."

"Brings back memories."

"Just keep away from flying desks, Vakarian, and you'll actually _have_ memories." He chuckles as his wife's smirk over her shoulder.

Wiks nods, as if really needing to answer the Commander. "As you can see, this facility houses very sensitive information. The research we do here has kept our people safe for millennia."

She snorts as they keep walking. "How about we just get those females before Wrex decides to see how big a splash someone makes thrown from this height?" He nods and leads them further through the facility towards an elevator, but not before Garrus thinks he recognizes one of the men working at a terminal.

It's when he turns that he's proven right when it's none other but the Captain they assisted and worked with on Virmire. Despite nearly everyone else they've seem to have come across during this war, the now Major smiles and greets them happily.

Apparently, he was the one responsible for bringing the females from Tuchanka and they actually believe him when he agrees that they were in horrendous conditions. Not that it really means much when there's always the possibility a man you worked beside once two years ago could be lying to save his Dalatrass' interests, but it doesn't hurt to give the occasional benefit of doubt. Especially when it seems he is less likely to follow politics than the common sense needed in a war like this.

Being proven wrong has its benefits when one such as Garrus tends to expect the worse and he is pleasantly surprised when Kirrahe not only brings up the Crucible, but, with hushed tones, says that, whatever happens on with the politicians, he and his men are with them. Such a division between military and politics may been detrimental in normal circumstances, but in this war, it seems like the perfect opportunity. _Let the Dalatrass stew in her grudges, we'll take an army of everyone we can get over playing nice with the politicians any day._

Returning to Wiks, they follow the STG soldier down to the labs. Overhearing the conversation between Jane and the Salarian reveals another interesting agreement with the Major. To see such a divide is nearly insane to imagine to a man whose government decisions come _second_ to military policies, the former not able to move forward without the latter, but Garrus has learned over time and from his wife's struggles that his own people are the actually oddity.

" _Alert! Threat condition two has been declared. Scramble readiness teams_."

"That doesn't sound good," he says as he looks to the Salarian man.

"No, it doesn't," Padok agrees as he pulls up his Omni-Tool. "Sensors have picked up activity on the perimeter. We should make haste."

" _Base personnel must remain on-site until further notice._ " They hear that particular announcement as they step out of the lift and into a darkened lab, armored scientists going about their daily business as if some major alert wasn't just declared.

"Mordin!" Jane shouts with a smirk on her face, going around Padok to head for the man who is solely responsible for finding them the amazing woman who cared for, and gave her life, to maintaining their children's health.

"Excellent timing, Shepard." He comes to them and takes her hand, then Garrus', matching the couple's smiles. "Hadn't expected to return to work. Good was here, given circumstances." Following him at his motioned hand, the four – her team and Padok – walk beside or behind him as he leads to the further tanks, hopefully where the Krogan are as the alarms are starting to cause a bit of unease to the hardened soldiers. "Special consultant. Had to be me. Someone else might have gotten it wrong." Clearing his throat before leaning in, he adds, "Helped female Krogan. Fed information to Clan Urdnot. Encouraged political pressure to free females."

"Mordin, you sly bastard," Jane says with a chuckle, shaking her head. "So I take it there's good news?"

"Yes. Can explain later. Security warnings not normal. Need to get offworld for sake of Krogan." Following him as he explains, Garrus sees too many empty tanks for his liking. Such a lack of female Krogans doesn't bode well for his own and wife's people. "Weakened immune systems. Side effect of Maleon's cure. Didn't survive."

"Goddess, none of them?"

Mordin shakes his head with a hopeful smile, answering Liara. "One survivor. Immune. Can synthesize cure from tissue." He motions to a tank, the five approaching with held breaths. "Last hope for Krogan. If dies, Genophage cure… problematic." Finally, they round a tank control terminal and see her, a female Krogan already secured into a transport-safe brace within her tank. Leave it to the Salarians to not trust a loose Krogan through their facility, peace negotiations or not. "Please be cautious. Krogan slow to trust."

"With good reason," Jane says as she approaches the tank, and the woman in some sort of ceremonial robes within. "I'm Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy." Easier to introduce herself that way given the confusion two Vakarians serving together would cause.

"Are you here to kill me?"

"You'd see a lot more explosions if I were." Jane comes to the glass and Garrus can't help the few steps behind her, unconsciously sticking close to her. "This is a 'peaceful' rescue of sorts. Urdnot Wrex is here to take you home."

"Why? What am I to you?"

"Me? A means to end a war, but to Wrex? A future for your people."

"You don't lack for brutal honesty, Commander-"

" _Alert. Unidentified vessels have breached the perimeter_."

 _Seems our war followed us here_ , he thinks as he starts to see the men around them preparing. Even Wrex comms in a bit of a furious panic. "Shepard! We've got Reapers dropping! Get the females out _now_!"

"Fucking shit," she curses, motioning Solus to move and deal with the tank's controls. Garrus doesn't need to hear more than that to get his weapons prepped, giving Liara a nod in 'you should too'. "Are you being overrun?"

"Like a bunch of scrawny husks could give me trouble. Get your asses up with those females."

"Only one survived. Look, I'll explain later. Stay out of sight and don't, by all that is holy, get blown our only way out blown out of the sky if you have to get off the ground. Understood." Wrex closes the call with something about a grown Krogan taking orders from a little human female and the best close of a call as if in slam that can be done with a Tool. "You heard the man. Releasing her will make it easier to get the hell out of here."

"I can't." The scientist taps a few controls with little effort. "Protocols state during lockdown no specimen – Gah!" He spasms with an electric pulse before dropping on the ground.

"Objection noted," Mordin states matter of factly and drops his Tool, ignoring the stunned look on Padok's face – _apparently someone isn't used to how… determined Mordin can be when involving his work_ \- before going to the controls and opens the transportation pod to check on the female. "Condition not stable as hoped. Problematic." He shuts the pod with a hiss and Jane runs to the door, about to ask what's going on when he explains. "Considered with female's health. Must not risk exposure to battle. Will monitor from within pod."

"And what the fuck are we supposed to do?"

"I will assist the Professor," Wiks answers, removing his weapon and jumping onto the lift. "I can provide covering fire to protect pod, distract the enemy. Meet us up on the transportation floor."

Nodding, she looks to her squad and Garrus rumbles with a nod of his own. After all, what choice do they have? None of them can fit up on the crane with the pod like the slender Salarian can. None except… "Liara," he says as he turns to her. "Join Padok, defend the pod while Jane and I try to go around, pull attention to ourselves. All of us can't fit and you're the smallest of us with your light armor."

"He's right." His mate agrees, motioning to the lift as she removes her weapon and watches the Asari climb up onto the lift.

"Be careful, Shepard." Worry paints Liara's features as the lift starts to rise up into the next level above them.

Snorting, she motions to follow as they rush towards the lift. "If I was, we'd never get anything done."

When the lift opens for them, they are sent scrambling behind cover by the immediate opening of Reaper fire. How the hell they managed to fit one of those brute mixes of Turian and Krogan hybrids, two Turian husks, and a handful of human ones is a mystery behind him and isn't something he dwells on as he begins by first Overloading a Marauder's shields. That one he leaves to Jane to finish off as he moves his focus to the second, taking it down while the Brute is still at a distance.

Seeing a few human husks perched upon its back is unsettling, almost like the multiple creatures are one until they jump off to swarm the unprepared scientists. The sight must also bother his mate because he notices she spends quite a bit of time pulling them off with her biotics, numerous weightless figures floating through the air for him to remove with his rifle.

When there is nothing but the charging Brute remaining – and he's a bit ashamed to admit they let it target the scientists over themselves so they could take out the rest of the field before the other husks could become an issue – Jane holsters her weapon to move faster. He covers her as she runs as best she can behind the cover of the terminals, circling around the opposite side of it.

Seeing her pop out of cover, Garrus targets the massive creature, targets its mutilated Turian skull, and fires. That grabs its attention, the now half shattered disgrace of his species' remains snaps towards him as it begins to cross the facility floor. With its back now towards her, his wife pops out of her cover and begins laying down everything her weapon has before needing to drop into cover to swap a sink – _I really need to mod her weapon to have interchangeable heat stabilizers._

With the back of the Brute now in his sights, he lays his own fire until, using this tactic, they drop the creature before it managed to corner either against the wall. There aren't too many of the Salarians left, but it was nothing personally against them. Heading to the lift, they draw their weapons as the chime of it reaching their floor.

It swings open and they nearly pull the trigger before seeing a group of Salarian soldiers, Jane proclaiming, "Holy fuck! Don't scare us like that, Kirrahe!"

"Likewise, Shepard," he says as he lowers his weapon, motioning the lift. "I assume you are taking this? We have Reaper forces moving in from the opposite direction, so you better hurry before you get pulled into a firefight with us. Don't worry," he smiles and pats her shoulder as his men file out, "We will distract them. See to your female."

They nod in thanks and 'good luck' just as the far doors blow in with gunfire, husks in the dozens pouring through in a discord of gunfire. It's now or never, so he and his wife rush into the lift, laying down fire until the last moment with the doors slam closed.

"Remind me to send that bastard some flowers or something for covering our asses," she says with a chuckle as she reloads and offers him a heatsink. "You think this might knock some sense into their politicians or will Kirrahe be one of the few that sees reason?"

Knowing her frustrations and the harm they can do in a fight, he tries to help distract her. "Better question is where I can get one of those pistols he was using." He purrs at her snort and half smile, which is better than nothing.

"Shepard!" Liara nearly screams into the comm, sending a ringing of feedback into his ear that makes him hiss. "We're being outnumbered out here. Please help!"

Any response is cut off by the doors sliding open with a hiss to the turmoil that has taken over the main landing zone. At least three Brutes are easily cutting through the remaining soldiers, the Salarians never being trained for something like this, not expecting it. It wasn't even the worst of it, the lumbering creatures could be outmaneuvered in one-on-one combat situation, but everyone was pinned down by Turian and Batarian husk fire and having to focus half their attention on those rushing them. It was, simply put, a slaughter out here.

They immediately take to cover and start to lay down fire, working to take down any Reaper paying too much attention to the currently defenseless pod with the female and Mordin. Liara and Wiks where easily pinned down against a slowly approaching Brute and, with Garrus' motion towards them, Jane began to focus her Reaves against it, sucking away its defenses.

Trying to shoot the creature pinning their team in between fire against those circling the pod, Garrus realizes there's no way they can take it down in time and that they need to change strategies. Whatever strategy that may be. "Jane," he warns around his scope, continuing to drop enemies. "That Brute is right on top of them."

She nods and looks, gasping. That sounds snaps his attention to the situation, watching in shock as the two across the way separate, unable to use their original cover and moving to keep the Reaper from being able to bring them both down. Liara jumps into a cover deeper under the overhang, but when the Brute begins closer on her position, Wiks, from his position on the landing pad, begins to lay down distracting fire.

Garrus has to grab his wife from rushing into fire to stop the unstoppable, the scene unfolding and neither unable to stop it. By distracting the Brute, and too close to effectively dodge or find adequate cover, Wiks as backed himself up against a wall. That wall being the cliff's overhang.

Yet, he knows he sees understanding in the man's eyes. Garrus knows the STG knows it's either him or Liara and, despite he owing nothing to them, he accepts the only way to ensure her safety. Padok Wiks fires at the Brute until the very moment it charges him, roaring as he breaks easily through the man's shielding and sending the two of them over the edge.

"Dammit!" His wife slams a fist against their cover before rounding it, sending a shockwave to send a group of human husks – the last of the Reaper forces between them and being able to take cover closer to the pod's release terminals – over the edge and tumbling down into the waterfall below.

Her rage is obvious as she takes Garrus' assault rifle from his back when he joins her in cover and begins to fire the longer ranged weapon against the last of the Reaper forces alongside his own rifle fire and Liara's biotics. It's not like her to see so much death of people close to her, of that feeling of not doing all she could, but he knows it's only beginning. As a human, she wants to save everyone, but he's always known it's more about saving _more_ than an individual. _Unless it's my choice, then I will save three over the entire galaxy, but she doesn't need that reminder that would only turn into a burden of guilt._

They clear the landing pad and transit floor of Reapers just as the shuttle returns, most likely spent the whole time trying to outrun and stay under the radar of the giant Reaper towering over the mountain and taking shots at the fighters circling it. Thankfully, both the female and the shuttle seem to be in better state than they are, notably his wife who looks about ready to punch something – with the intent of breaking something, either her target or fingers.

As Mordin rushes the female out and into the shuttle, Garrus follows his wife, ignoring whatever seems to be happening between the Krogan or the looks from Liara, and sits beside her in the back of the nearly full to capacity vehicle. He feels the shift as the pilot moves to rush out of Reaper attention and to the Normandy with their precious cargo, but he isn't focused on that, just the woman beside him.

"Jane-"

"This isn't the end of death, is it?"

Frowning, he answers, "No, it isn't. There will be a lot more that will have to die before this war can be over." He scoots closer to her and takes her hand, pressing his forehead to her temple. "Ruthless calculus."

"I hate math," she growls as she closes her eyes, leaning against him. Shifting a bit and he is able to wrap an arm around her, hugging her to his side and holding her small form.

"Commander," they look to the female Krogan as she speaks, all but her eyes veiled. "I am the last of my sisters. That makes me dangerous to a lot of people and I feel these creatures are not blind to that, as well."

Humming, Garrus answers for his distracted mate. "You'd be surprised the truth to that. The Reapers aren't against sleeper agents. With this alliance being what could be the first step in taking them down, it's obvious they have indoctrinated forces somewhere."

"Or everywhere," Jane finally adds, though she's still staring far off at the wall of the shuttle. "Mordin, can you even manage a cure with only one female as weak as she is? And in time to actually _in time_? And please don't tell me how, just if you can." Seeing her rub her head, Garrus rumbles and gently moves her hands to massage her most likely building headache.

"Need synthesize base antigen from female. Condition not preferable, though. Would like to be safe, give time to heal." He takes a deep breath. "Procedure with current health… problematic. Preferable to have had numerous subjects given possibility. Removing amount viable for tests and replicating may harm female. Wish had other means of cloning antigen."

"Me," his wife shifts, looking to the Salarian geneticist."

"Jane-"

"Could it work?" He growls, but she continues to ignore him. "Could you use the tech in me that made my children to make more of that antigen? Enough for a complete cure?"

"Would need male sample." He gives a pointed look to Wrex, who is smirking in his corner. "Acceptable."

"Absolutely not," Garrus snaps, cupping his mate's chin to look at him. "Krogan Genophage cure? Are you serious? What if this has side effects for you?"

"Always possibility," Mordin agrees."

True to her nature, she doesn't back down, narrowing her eyes and asking Solus without looking away, giving into the stalemate. "Would it kill me? Leave permanent health damage? Or make it where I can't fight?"

"May affect fertility."

"What?!" He breaks the standoff, eyes wide at the Professor. _And this is why I don't believe in Spirits, else I'd damn them for being cruel enough to take away any chance of giving our children siblings so she could become surrogate to a species._

"I'm still going to do it." When he looks to her in shock, she smiles. "We were never supposed to have children because of our species and my infertility shit, but we have _two_. And if I can help an entire people have that chance again, I will."

He trills, knowing she's right, knowing that, considering everything, he has to let her do this because it's how they will win this war. Without her, Mordin may kill the female trying to remove whatever he needs, and still not getting enough if their luck plays out like always, and who knows what will happen to the Krogan people when they lack what may become one of the most influential females of their species? What will happen when, despite Wrex's efforts, the Krogan men's combative ways overshadow the females' logical views for their people? And all because they didn't take the chance when it counted, when it could save the woman who can shape the Krogan's life? _Damn calculus._

Closing his eyes in painful defeat, he nods. "You getting pregnant again or not doesn't change anything. He takes her hands, trying for levity when he says, "I should know better than to try and convince you to not save the galaxy."

She chuckles as the female looks to them. "You would sacrifice much to aid us. Why?"

"Because," she answers as she looks to both the female and Wrex. "Without this Alliance between our people, there won't be any galaxy for _any_ of our children."


	11. Chapter 11

-Jane-

When she agreed to this, she hadn't expected to have to endure staying in the MedBay for long periods of time… or big needles. Needles nearly as long as her forearm, but she _may_ be exaggerating. She's also pretty damn sure Chakwas is having all too much fun watching her Commander squirm under Mordin's scrutinizing exams and endless, mind numbing questions of her 'condition' at every second.

Hissing at the needle's intrusion, she scowls at the Salarian and ignores the chuckle from the two other women. "Jesus Christ, is turning me into a kabob necessary?"

"Rescind earlier observation of Garrus. Mate much more suitable." She swears that's a jab at the joke of a conversation she walked into at her expense before, but it still gets him a glare. "Yes, much more likely. Shame female."

"If what you say is true, it might not matter," Eve matches his joke, to which Jane throws a pillow at her, hearing her low chuckle.

"Please, Shepard. Limit movement. Would not want mate's ire for your constant movement." She sighs and relents, letting the Professor inject some sort of milky pink liquid into her stomach before pulling it slowly out. "Complete. Suggest remaining in position for while longer. Will help injection take."

"So what _exactly_ am I, now? An incubator?"

As he goes to, most likely, correct her, Eve shakes her head from her seat on the bed beside hers. "You are a mother to my people, Shepard. I didn't think the Krogan has many allies left in the galaxy, but you and your mate have passed far beyond that. No matter what may happen, I am honored to call you a sister and Garrus a brother for you potential sacrifice." She drops her hooded eyes to the ground. "A sacrifice that my people have known for over a thousand years, but that you would give willingly."

Frowning, Jane sighs as she looks to the ceiling. "Not too willing, and I have to admit that it isn't all too noble of a reason. No cure, no Krogan in the Alliance for an army, and if there is a cure, but you die, then the future of a fertile Krogan species without female guidance probably means another Rebellion. I mean, I trust Wrex, it's all the others I don't trust. Neither of those options is acceptable for my own babies."

"Noble is not something that can be easily defined. I see it as a chance to give your children the future we could all hope for and, in doing that, you have given the Krogan hope. A fact that I will never forget, that I will make sure my people never take for granted." She chuckles and looks to Jane, a smile in her eyes. "But only if you allow me to see these children of yours. Wrex is not the only one to be able to see them."

Snorting, Jane nods. "I'll be sure to find out where my husband has taken them." Talking with this woman, hearing her story and her motives, she can't help but be reminded of a similar Krogan many years ago. A Krogan she will, unfortunately, only be able to remember through memories now that her artwork is nothing but ashes back on Earth. "You know, I still think it's funny how different the genders of your species are."

"How is that?"

"Well," she explains with a shrug. "It's clear that all the stereotypes about Krogan are only about your males. True, you're only the second female I've met in my entire life, but you and her both shared that sense of calm, of calculation and looking into the consequences and reasoning of an action, a decision. I can't help to think what if the galaxy didn't _just_ know the bias against your males?"

"It would not have changed," Eve answers. "The Krogan deserved our reputation when we demanded more than was given, more than what we had destroyed by our own hands. We had no one to blame for our destroyed colonies but ourselves and we blamed others for our nature."

"Do you think that can be changed?"

"I will make it my sole purpose when I return to Tuchanka. Raising our children to repeat our mistakes will only bring more pain."

Hand unconsciously on her belly the entire conversation of children, Jane nods with a deep breath and looks to Mordin tapping at the monitoring equipment at her bedside. "Do you even think this will work? That you can clone this anit-whatever?"

"Very possible. High predicted percentage of success." He gives her a confident smile. "Producing children of Turian human nature much less likely. Once ran statistics and probability with Jharen Choren."

At her name, she frowns and says softly, "Mordin, Jharen… she didn't make it off Earth."

His hands still for a moment as he ducks his head with a deep breath and "Unfortunate" before he continues. "Always knew better make better Dalatrass than most. Females too focused on self, but not her. Focused on others. Future." She can see actual frustration on his face as he shakes his head. "Would not be question of alliance with Krogan, Turian, and Human."

"Yeah," she agrees with a frown, remembering the older woman and the way she didn't see species, but mother and children. "She was certainly special. I owe her my children's lives."

"Was no other. Would have gotten it wrong." His agreement comes with a stern nod as he completes his work. "Can move. Oh," he stops mid walk back to his makeshift station in the MedBay, "Must use contraceptive during intercourse."

"What," she deadpans, feeling like one of those vids about sex ed. "Why the hell would I do that? Do Turians even _use_ condoms?"

Eve chuckles as Solus nods. "Most species have means of control of unwanted pregnancy. Shouldn't contaminate cultures with Turian DNA. Would be… most unpleasant."

"Serious? No one told me I can't fuck because of this… I didn't sign up for that."

"Not abstinent. Birth control. Can provide-"

Waving her hands in the air, she cuts him off with a rushed, "I don't _even_ want to know why you have Turian or human condoms or whatever you have." She groans as she rubs her hands down her face. "Dammit. Fine, give me the rubbers. Can't believe I have to tell my _Turian_ husband that we have to use protection."

Eve, damn her, merely chuckles from her place on her bed. "Just remember how it could be worse."

"And how could that be?"

"You could be Krogan."

Snorting, Jane nods. "Thanks for that potential mental image." Eve chuckles as the Commander with a false name heads to the doors to look for her mate and children, wherever he may have taken them, to, unfortunately, get back to work. It seems her unwanted duties of keeping the resistance afloat was a never-ending struggle.

"Shepard." EDI approaches her from around the corner of the lift. "May I ask a question?"

"Depends, but shoot," she answers, crossing her arms. The last time she had to answer 'questions', it lead to a weird conversation about her sex life and how EDI could entice Joker into a relationship. _Not sure I want to know how one leads the to other, or picture how it's possible._

"Within the MedBay, you spoke of sacrifice for your children's future, even at the possible cost of yours and Eve's health. I understand that organics value the concept of preserving one's genetics through future generations, but you are potentially sacrificing that ability when it would seem more efficient to maintain the unique ability to produce offspring with Garrus. You and Garrus have also expressed that you would choose the other and your children over the lives of countless others, even your own safety."

Sighing, Jane rubs her head and wonders how she can explain the often idiotic nature of love in its many forms. "Consider that whole 'organisms passing genetics' thing like your shackles, EDI. Our organic 'programming' tells us to reproduce, carry on our bloodline, just like yours forced you to serve Cerberus' intentions, limited you. You being unshackled is like organics gaining sentience, higher thinking. We don't see them as means to carry our genes, we see them as individuals we love greatly, would sacrifice everything for in order to see happy and healthy. That is what love is."

Tilting her head, EDI crosses her arms behind her back and asks, "Is there a different kind of love that one can share between those not involving their offspring?"

"Well," Jane starts with a pout of her lip in thought. Her record with 'love' doesn't expand beyond her experiences with Garrus and the twins. Hell, she grew up thinking such a thing was but a lie to mask someone's true intentions to cause harm and now she sees it as her driving force in this war. "Everyone's answer to that can be different and it may be that only you can truly add value to your love, but, for me, I love both Garrus and our twins unconditionally. Every sacrifice I would make for the babies, I would make for him and vice versa. When you love, there is no fear, no pain, and no weakness because you find that strength to overcome in them." She steps to EDI and lays a hand on her shoulder. "In times like these, it is easier to find the will to fight when there is someone to fight _for_. That is love, in and of itself."

"I see, Shepard," she responds softly, lost in thought from those words, and Jane leaves her, continuing on her way to find her mate.

She finds him, James, Wrex, and, surprisingly, the Primarch within the Lounge, talking around shared drinks. Obviously, whatever they are talking about isn't from the war or the Primarch and Clan Chief would be at each other's throats, so she's sure the drink has a small part in that. Another pacifier could be the children in Wrex's and Garrus' arms.

"So, let me get this straight," Victus says with a chuckle. "You claim to have ridden a Harvester that you trained from birth and Wrex swears, on his glass of whatever potentially hazard concoction he's drinking, that he has ridden a Thresher Maw over Tuchanka. Garrus, I cannot _wait_ to hear your own claim of greatness."

The deadpan in the man's voice makes her chuckle as she comes up behind her mate on the closest, couch, leaning over to give his forehead a kiss. "Did you tell them about taking down the giant Reaper baby by yourself?"

James snorts on the opposite end of the same couch. "Come on, Lola. You gotta have something better than that."

Wrex barks a laugh which, surprisingly, doesn't bother their son all that much, and responds. "He's calling you on your shit, Shepard. Better put him in his place."

"That's fine, I'll just let him and Garrus go one on one down in the Cargo Bay. If I dropped him, then there's no way it'll last longer than five seconds." She smirks.

"Who said I wasn't going easy on you?" he says with a smirk of his own and she grins as she grabs a pinch of his hair between thumb and forefinger, giving it a hard yank. "Ay! Pinche madre!"

She laughs and pats his shoulder as he rubs his scalp, looking to the Primarch. "No big tales of your own."

"Unfortunately, none that would sound as fantastic as these young bloods," he answers as he motions Garrus and James.

Snorting, Wrex says, "Who said anything about having to be young?"

Chuckling, she hears the doors open and turns to Liara and Traynor entering, speaking softly over a datapad. "Oh, Shepard," the Asari says, handing the datapad. "I managed to find something in my network you may want to see." The room quiets as she continues and Jane tries to read along, even if it's just for show. "Grissom Academy has requested and Alliance evacuation because they fear it is only a matter of time before the Reapers locate the station."

"Okay… and I take it something is suspicious about this?"

"Yes, very. The request was answered by a Turian evacuation transport-"

"But the Turians haven't moved in to assist Earth, let alone human systems."

"Correct," Liara answers with a nod. "And I'm sure the Primarch and Praetor can agree with me that no such evacuation would go without word to the Hierarchy?"

Humming in thought and with furrowed brows, Victus nods. "There have not been any reports of a Turian vessel anywhere within Alliance space."

"So we're dealing with a fake," Garrus adds with a growl. "Any idea who?"

At that, EDI appears in her long obsolete, or so Jane had figured, glowing orb. "Doctor T'Soni asked me to analyze the data. It is within the same parameters of the same signal that has lead you to the Collector trap with only minor alterations within the code to remain harder to detect. I was able to accurately detect the inconsistencies thanks to the previous false distress signal."

"Good find," Jane says to the group who brought it to her and she looks Traynor. "Send an alert to the Alliance that Grissom needs and evac. The Normandy will try to cut off Cerberus from whatever shit they are doing, but there might be more students than we can safely transport."

"Right away, ma'am."

With the woman leaving in a hurry to pass on the order, Jane smirks and looks to the crew in the Lounge. "What do you say we hit some Cerberus bastards where it hurts? Wrex?" She looks to him with a raised brow. "Want in?"

He grins as he stands and stomps to her, handing over her infant. "You have a quad asking that," he gives in answers with a smirk and cracks his neck, heading out to get his weapons from his 'bunk' in the War Room.

"Just like old times, Jane," her mate rumbles with a smirk as he stands.

Giving a nod of goodbye to the two men, she leads him to the MedBay, explaining, "I promised Eve she could see and care for the babies. And what would you know, but this is the perfect time."

"Is it bad I actually trust leaving them alone with her more than Wrex?" He chuckles and gently pulls Cassia from his cowl. "At least I won't have to worry about Eve trying to teach our son to headbutt."

"Oh, poor baby," she says with a hint of amusement, not over her tough as nails child taking to a Krogan, but her husband constantly stressing over their care. _It's actually pretty damn cute_.

Eve is more than happy to have the children entrusted to her and, despite her size, her touch is soothing to them, calming enough to put them to sleep even though they are being handed to and left with anyone else beside their parents. Usually, it takes a good ten minutes, or longer, to get them to sleep so the two can leave quietly, but, here, they are wide awake and near mesmerized by some crystal the female Krogan shows to the little twins.

So, with babies secured in the caring hands - _maybe not so much in one of their cases_ \- of Eve, Chakwas, and Mordin, the two head first to their Cabin for armor. Next is a stop to the Cargo Bay armory for their weapons as the Normandy sets flight for the Academy.

* * *

Jack storms over the corpses, still smoking from the searing hot ammunition sent into their flesh, and straight at her, punching her squarely on the jaw. How she can still get a chance to throw Jane for a loop is still pretty hilarious, if her jaw wasn't currently yelling 'that bitch punched me!'

"I can finally do that now that you popped that fucking kid out," the biotic snarls.

"Funny, I didn't think babies come from human mouths." A three fingered hand lands on Jane's shoulder, gently squeezing in question, and she nods in reassurance.

"Fuck you, Garrus. Actually, no. Fuck her. No way I want your mutant babies."

"What makes you think my kids were his?" Jane lifts a brow as she crosses her arms, jaw feeling better thanks to the cybernetics she doesn't want to think about right now considering what and who they are fighting.

Snorting, the younger woman rolls her eyes. "With how long and often you two went at it, there's no way you had anyone but his boney headed, no-nose, dog legged-"

Wrex's loud laughter interrupts and drowns out any insults she may have added. "I like this one, Shepard."

"And who the hell are you?"

Jane sighs at the fact that she seems to be surrounded by more children than the ones that are, dishearteningly, missing from the halls of this school. "Jack, meet Wrex. Wrex, Jack. Jack, can you tell me what happened here? How are your students' conditions?"

"They're tired, but okay." Her answer comes from a voice she hasn't heard since the beginning of the fall down the rabbit hole that was the Omega-4. A voice that also, during their last meeting, nearly sent her addicted and withdrawing husband into a rage, Kaidan Alenko. "Good to see you again, Shepard… Garrus," he's makes sure to add tentatively before looking to the Krogan from his past. "And you too, Wrex."

Wrex gives an all too Krogan grunt in response and Garrus a nod that, if she's reading the situation correctly, seems to cool the air between them. With a sort of truce between the men achieved, she takes Kaidan's offered hand, shaking.

"I see you couldn't turn down a longer service here at Grissom," she says as they part and jerks her head to the students above in the overlooking balcony.

Nodding, he follows her eyes and smiles. "I like working with them," he pauses and frowns, "before Cerberus… How did you know to come?"

And there's that suspicion, though a bit lighter on the ire than Williams was. Jane can't help the sigh and Jack rolls her eyes, scowling. "Kaidan, I already had this same talk before. I don't work for Cerberus as shown by me blasting holes through them. We found out the signal saying someone was evacuating you was a fake."

Scoffing, Jack shakes her head. "You're telling me Cerberus pulled tried that Turian signal again?" Jane nods and she barks a laugh. "Good thing you aren't as dumb as everyone makes you out to be, Shepard." She looks to Alenko and adds, "Listen here, you whiney bitch. If you want to sit here and talk about Cerberus and Shepard all damn day, than do it, but me and mine are taking her help because we know she doesn't have anything to do with those assholes anymore."

"You and yours?" Jane raised a brow and looks up at the students, still too far away to hear every word Jack is letting slip. "I see my recommendation when through for you. Kaidan," she turns to him, "You have two choices, stay here or keep quiet about me and Cerberus while we get the hell off this station."

He nods and his lips part to speak when a station wide Cerberus announcement comes over both the intercoms and the students' Tools. It's the best sort of weapon Cerberus has, fear and propaganda, using partial truths imbedded in lies to sway the weak and, Jane isn't ashamed to admit, these teenagers _are_ the weak. It shows in their every words and expression, the hesitance and near acceptance of the lies before being snapped into reality by the only one who seems to have been taking care of them since the attack.

Fighting their way through the station was, at least, eased by the fact that Jack seemed to have found a path almost completely devoid of enemy attention – that only pulled towards them and away from the armed human, Turian, and Krogan when her students would throw out supporting biotics. It seemed that Cerberus, for whatever reason that Jane doesn't want to know, was willing to throw massive amounts of manpower into capturing these kids.

The insinuations of that plus what she had seen on Mars under that Trooper's mask was nothing good, nothing to make her believe the Illusive Fool's claims of being clear of Reaper control, of their Indoctrination. Where he was once so focused on bettering humanity – this place being one of those _exact_ places for that sort of achievement – he is now trying to turn these students into nothing more than fancied up husks.

That sudden change in motives, in one extreme to an entirely different one, is one more reason she has come to fear the tech within her own and her mate's heads, but she couldn't distract herself, not now. Time for questioning her own and his capacity to think without enemy control was a matter to deal with another time when they weren't being shot at. So she focuses on the task at hand, in dropping Cerberus soldiers while they are being bombarded by both gunfire and biotics.

Looking to her mate, she motions the Atlas Mech and sees him nod, sighting the pilot. At that same time, she begins to glow in preparation and targets the Trooper directly beside its leg. When she hears the loud boom of Garrus' widow, she unleashes her energy and flies forward.

Her feet land with a sickening crunch of armor bending to the will of her biotically charged boots, but she doesn't stay still for long, kicking off the twitching and writhing soldier and climbing up to the hatch of the Atlas. She tosses out the headless pilot and replaces him in the seat, smirking.

"Now it's time to play," she says, hearing her Krogan friend chuckle on the comm, and turns the machine on its own, firing missiles directly at the scrambling soldiers. "Alright, Jack, move forward. We will be right on your six."

The three work on clearing out the areas before the students' progress, making their way to the shuttle bay. With a glance ahead of them, Wrex holds up a hand in 'hold', then speaks through the comm. "You better have another Mech lying around. The shuttle are surrounded. At least three Atlases."

"You mean I actually get to pilot one?" Garrus growls with a grin, then narrows his eyes as he looks over the Mech she's in. "I have an idea."

"You want to ride my back?" He actually blinks in surprise, meaning she must have gotten it right, and she chuckles. "You're starting to think too much like me."

"I was actually going to suggest we corner one and I take out the pilot, but we can always try your suicidal technique." _Damn, could have_ _ **sworn**_ _we were on the same page._

"Better figure it out, ladies… The students are coming." With that, Wrex begins the fight and doesn't give her any option but to kneel the Mech on one knee and offer an 'arm' up onto its back.

Her mate gives an uneasy hum of concern as she lowers her voice to speak. "I won't let anything happen to you, Garrus."

Chuckling weakly, he climbs up onto the back and holds onto the large tank on the Atlas' back. "That's my line."

Storming, or as best as she can in a however many ton mech, into the room, she sends a missile immediately into one of the other Atlases' hearing the fire of her husband's rifle muffled from the cockpit as he uses the shoulder as a cover to fire. _Leave it to him to make a sniper perch out of a moving Atlas._

She makes the machine dance in and out of fire, always keeping her back to the wall and away from enemy fire as they whittle down one of the mechs until it is beyond use. Once it is at that state, she goes still, waiting for the inevitable shot he takes to end the pilot's life. That leaves the foot soldiers and two more, but one is currently occupied by the charging, and _laughing_ , Krogan backed by biotics.

As if he reads her mind, she hears Garrus' voice on the comm ask, "You ready to get me off your back?"

"That could be interpreted _so_ many ways," she answers as she slowly starts to side step around a support structure, trying to line him up with the pilot of the Atlas closing in on their location. "Give me the when."

"Hold," she stops, taking a breath even when her own intake wouldn't actually manage to move the massive mech, and waits for the fire of the rifle that she hears more in her mind than actually through the muffled cockpit. "When."

With that, she moves the Atlas as fast as it will go and remain stable, crushing a few soldiers as she closes in on the free mech. As she slides up against it, she uses her weapon to swipe off the Trooper trying to climb in like a bug and helps block fire as Garrus jumps in, the two of them smirking as the Atlas straightens under his control.

Now that the fun can _really_ begin, Jane takes the ground forces while her mate charges into Wrex's battle, his mech crashing into the other. It's almost like a sparring match to watch between the two as he fights the other pilot to gain control, the Cerberus soldier clearly thrown completely out of his element from the unexpected charge as illustrated with his mech's knee collapses to Garrus' advantage. Her husband slams the clamping limb of his Atlas straight into the cockpit, shattering the window and just yanking the half broken and now bleeding man from the seat, throwing him.

She has to give it to him, _that_ was pretty damn impressive and she never thought about actually _fighting_ while piloting an Atlas, but, like always, he teaches her something new all the time.

The rest, all foot soldiers, seem to mostly lay down once they see two of their own Atlases are now piloted by the enemy and, though it has lost its fun to kill them when they've already given up, they do not take prisoners, do not show mercy. What would mercy be to them, anyways? Are these Cerberus minions anything but tools of the Illusive Man and, above him, the Reapers? Is killing them not the real mercy? Should she really be giving herself headaches over this?

 _No, I probably shouldn't_ , she thinks as she helps the students get into their new Cerberus shuttles they'll use to slip out. It's unfortunate, but they have to leave the Atlases behind to climb into the shuttles with the far too little number of surviving students and instructors.

Riding to the Normandy, the alert already sent ahead not to fire upon them, she speaks to the survivors of the war, of where they will come in as the support to those in the front lines. More than the order, she has to lay out before them what they will see, what the destruction back home can be and how, despite its appearance, the Citadel that they are heading to is not the norm for the galaxy. It may be harsh, but she was never one to lie, even less in the time where these false ideals can mean life or death.

She'd rather be seen as the monster that broken their spirits in order to make them stronger, more determined, than the woman who made them believe they were invincible. At least, she thinks, she did manage to keep the worst of the _loss of life_ away from the conversation, kept it more as a loss of home, of possessions. Better to retain a sense of hope that way.

When they arrive on the Normandy, Jack immediately demands to see Jane's 'little shits'. Kaidan, not completely up to vids from Earth since his workload at the Academy was doubled with new students, doesn't even know what the two are talking about and, when told, he seems struck dumb from the news. Jane would have almost been amused if, once again, it hadn't lead back to Cerberus when he questioned her why the organization would have that kind of tech, why she agreed to use it, and why she didn't just admit they were refugees when they clearly were _not_ human. Refusing to get into an argument in front of his students – one of which, she learned, was greatly enamored with her husband thanks to the time he had run on a Cerberus base on Aite – and lower their views of their instructor, Jane just leaves the man with a stern order to _never_ associate her children with Cerberus ever again.

Luckily, she doesn't have to deal with Kaidan Alenko between then and the return to the Citadel thanks to Jack claiming she 'needed to take some time to tend to her own personal matters' and couldn't watch the students the entire trip –which actually boiled down to the few hours she, Jane, and Garrus spent in the Lounge while the tattooed biotic awed at the twins, showing them the kind of tender care Jane had always known the woman possessed.

The rest of her time was spent with her husband, either shadowing him in the Battery as he worked as she and their babies rested in his comforting presence or up in their cabin doing everything from reading reports to trying, embarrassingly enough, to use the contraceptives Mordin offered without getting too frustrated and using more than necessary because half of their attempts ended in destroyed…whatever the hell Turians used as condoms.


	12. Chapter 12

-Garrus-

Having shore leave on the Citadel now seemed so different.

First was the war that _no one_ seemed to be paying any attention to, or at least looking at it like it was in another galaxy, far from ever including them. Second was the fact that now he was _someone_ , not a failed C-Sec detective turned failed – well, failed in the sense that he is supposed to be dead – but a Praetor and Spectre, someone who could actually _do_ something, even if it was less than he had hoped and expected.

Last, but certainly not least, was he was a _father_ now. Granted, he was a father sneaking his children onto the Citadel in a small carrier and using his and his mate's Spectre authorities to get out of having to be scanned by C-Sec, but a father all the same. The only unfortunate problem to this situation was the fact that, since his move to Omega two years ago, they were left with taking their children to either a hotel or staying on the Normandy for the Leave and one of those meant they'd have to keep passing by this checkpoint and he wasn't all that comfortable expecting ever officer to be intimidated by the Spectres dressed in civvies – or at least she was in a light armor that could pass for it, but there was no way he was taking off his armor on the station.

So a hotel was the first destination, right after saying good-bye to their temporary guests.

"You kids be safe with Jack," Jane says with a chuckle. "And remember not to repeat anything we said when Lieutenant Sanders wasn't around." Kahlee gives a look and Jack snorts. "I kid, Lieutenant. And Jack, you take care of yourself."

The two women, near enemies in the beginning turned some of the closest of friends, hug, Jane giving Jack's hair a tug and getting a punch in the shoulder as retaliation. His wife chuckles as the biotic smiles and responds, "Don't get yourself killed out there. And you too, Garrus. Keep your fu- frigging head down."

"Then I wouldn't have these distinguishing scars," he rumbles with a smirk as he gives her a half hug so as not to disturb their hidden babies. He smiles as she pats the carrier softly, the area too occupied to actually say anything more, and nods in silent thanks at helping to keep them secret.

He and Jane shakes hands with Sanders, sharing the pleasantries of safety that seem to be all this galaxy runs on now while armies are being crushed under Reaper feet. Next is the students, in awe at being on the Normandy and, for many, on the Citadel for the first time to do much but give a quick glance to their rescuers. After them, Garrus notices how Kaidan splits off to address his wife specifically. _If he's smart, he'll apologize to her… and thank whatever entity he prays to that I wasn't there when he questioned her, yet again._

Yet, Garrus is unable to listen in as he sees a very familiar face approach. "David," he says in greeting with a friendly rumble. "This is where we part, unfortunately."

He liked, though not at the time or by the means, getting to see what the man was before _his own brother_ turned him into an experiment. It was more than disheartening to learn that, no matter what he had done, Archer would always be scarred with the memories, the pain of being strapped into that machine and tortured. He doesn't know much of whatever ailment David has, but he had hoped that something in his mind could block it out, even if no one he's ever known could forget trauma, himself included.

"I will be okay." It's sort of encouraging that David's state has him in a position to lecture _Garrus_ of being okay, of not worrying. "I will continue to count."

 _'_ _The number of days you lengthened my life…'_ That somehow hit hard, throwing Garrus back into the past, into finding the weak man suspended within a twisted, nightmarish machine. Counting days? Is that what all of their own lives will boil down to? Counting days left?

That's part of why he and Jane are taking such the risk of bringing the babies onto the Citadel. They have to make the best of what they have should it all end horribly and that can't be done spending every moment not on the ground within the Normandy, but now isn't the time to dwell, not when he should let David go.

Smiling, Garrus nods in understanding and says, "Goodbye, David."

"Goodbye."

He watches David join the group of students, seeing his wife returning from speaking with Alenko. "What was that about?" he asks with a motion to the lift that the group is climbing into.

"He was asking about Williams, wants to go see her."

She doesn't add to that, so he adds, "And you still aren't on good terms with her, I take it."

"You are correct. She hasn't contacted me, so I won't contact her. Call me a bitch, but I'm so tired of explaining and explaining and, now that the one thing I _thought_ we at least agreed on, she hasn't backed me, is just like the politicians. I can't take both from someone I thought was a friend, not anymore." She sighs in defeated frustration and he rubs her back, purring in comfort. "I can't handle that sort of shit _and_ the war… I'm only human."

Rumbling in understand and agreement, he leans down and presses his forehead to hers. "So, what now for my beautiful mate?"

That cheers her up some as she snorts and rolls her eyes with an incredulous smirk. "Well, my _handsome husband_ , I need to contact Miranda. She wanted to meet up for something, don't know what exactly, but it seemed important."

"Want me to join?"

"I don't think so… she seems like she's running from something."

He hums in understanding of what doesn't need to be said, that Miranda is probably in hiding from Cerberus after telling the Illusive Man 'where to shove it', as Jane claimed. Sure, that definitely wasn't the phrase Lawson used, but Garrus understands the meaning well enough. "I'll let you two have your privacy. Plus, I'm sure there's a pair of people who'd like me to get us a hotel."

Chuckling, she nods and kisses him softly. "Be careful… and find us somewhere with a tub."

He snorts and chuckles, heading to the lift to look for a decent hotel. How bad of a hotel would he have to settle on with a Praetor _and_ Spectre's salary? Perhaps he could find one close to Huerta or at least a transport that directly travels to it instead of covering half the station before reaching it. Even if he and his dad are still on shaky grounds, Garrus is sure Sol would like to see and visit with the babies if he can manage to sneak them in, or her out, somehow.

Walking down the Ward in search for something that looks like 'somewhere with a tub', he stops at a store that catches his eye. There, sitting in the window of a shop, is a guitar, almost just like Jane's except in a red wood instead of black. He knows she lost hers when she had to flee Earth with their children, along with her sketchbooks, and, while he knows it won't bring all her hard work back, maybe he can help give her an outlet away from the war again.

He lifts the lid of the carrier to see the babies are still asleep, their little mandibles flickering at whatever dream they're having. Once done, he covers them back up and heads into the store, hearing a bell ring with his entrance. Around him are what seems like the perfect things he's looking for, more instruments, some kinds of stands, lots of colorful paste, brushes – _this may be the place I can get both things she needs_.

"Oh! Why hello!" A young Asari maiden comes out with paint – _that's what that paste is_ – over her apron, a bit even on her crests. "Welcome to Arubani's. How may I help you?"

Rumbling at her smile, he motions the window. "You have a guitar in the window, a red one. I'd like to buy that and maybe two sketchbooks… and some drawing supplies for majorly black and white. Charcoal, I think she called it."

"Ah," she says with a grin as she wipes her hands on her apron, further dirtying it. "I can't get your supplies for you." He follows her hand motion, walking behind her down one of the two aisles in this small store. "Are you getting this for a friend?"

"Bondmate, actually. She lost her things when," he thinks up something besides _when the Reapers attacked Earth_ , "we moved, unfortunately."

"Oh no, but you're getting her new things, which is so sweet of you. Have you ever tried?"

Chuckling, he shakes his head. "Always wanted to learn how to paint, but… well, I guess you can say I got into a different field."

She doesn't quite know how to answer that bit of friendly sarcasm as she hands him the supplies she gathered, a hand bound pad in black leather and another in a light brown with what looks like hand carved pieces of charcoal, and heads to get the guitar. "Now, this is one of our more expensive guitars, made from wood from Sur'Kesh's southernmost woods," she says before frowning. "And it goes to helping the Salarian war effort. Those poor refugees."

"They aren't the only refugees," he snaps with a bit of a growl. "They aren't even the first species hit, or the second, or the third. You want to help refugees? Then don't support the _Salarian_ war effort, support _the_ war effort, the one that includes all the species currently fighting, and dying, to protect the right to run this kind of store."

She glares at him and snaps back, "You don't have to be so damn rude. Just who do you think you are?"

"The Praetor of Palaven in charge of the Reaper Resistance," he growls low, hearing the slight rumbles in his carrier of waking babies, and tosses a chit that is well more than what his things are worth. "Keep your damn change and learn that we aren't species, we are a whole."

He doesn't let her respond, doesn't want to hear it, and simply takes the supplies and leaves. There wouldn't be time for a conversation anyways, not when a duo of cries is about two seconds from erupting because he couldn't keep his own voice and vocals down. Quickly finding a public extranet terminal, he gets in and sits down in the corner so it will be harder for anyone to peek in and spy on him.

He shifts the bag into his lap and opens it away from himself, looking it with a purr. "Shh… it's okay," he whispers as he pulls off his glove and reaches in to caress them. They are still so small, but their vocals are coming in, getting stronger with each passing day, and he chuckles with they try to match his purring. "See? Nothing bad out here… Can you sleep without mommy having to be here too?"

They simple stare, deaf to his pleas, it seems, but they don't get louder than the occasional hiccup of a trill. He'd normally take that as a good sign and not worry too much because sometimes the twins just sniffle and trill, getting it out of their systems as mom and dad hold them, but he doesn't have that luxury, not while walking a _very_ busy Citadel ward.

 _At least,_ he thinks, _they seem to quiet when I'm touching them – wait…_

He grabs his glove and lays it with his daughter, then removes the other, laying it beside his son. Surprisingly, they _do_ calm down, by quite a bit. Perhaps it's the smell of him and the residue from his weapons and the battlefield, a smell that never really comes out no matter the number of washes, that help to comfort them, make them think of the soothing scents of their father, but whatever it is, it works. Soon, with his gloves and low rumbling and purrs, they close their eyes and their little clothed chests slow to a steady rise and fall.

Sighing a relieved breath, he gets up and heads for a hotel. He's not willing to risk it anymore so, when he finally finds a place that looks homely enough, he goes in and the first thing he asks is about a tub. Turns out, the place caters to Hanar and Salarian customers, so he rents a room for the leave and is told to 'look forward to the best tubs this side of the Citadel,' whatever that means.

One good thing about arriving at the station somewhat late in its day cycle is the benefit of not having anything to do besides get his children into their room, alert Jane where he is and to bring their duffels now that they have somewhere off-ship, and relax. Sure, he'll probably have to figure out food 'since I carried in your damn bags, you lazy ass', but what's that compared to having to run around the Citadel for other people?

Plus, Victus had all but claimed his post at the Docks this shore leave because he had wanted to be close to the men and women he was supposed to lead. Garrus felt sort of bad for the man, leaving a battlefield to lead their people, and having to wait on his hands because of a choice he made in hopes that it would all work out to benefit the war. Why he and Jane earned Victus' near unfailing belief in them, he'll never know and isn't sure how to handle entirely, but he knows they both will try their damnedest to get it done, to save Palaven and Earth and Tuchanka and whatever species' planet when they decide to see logic.

Closing, and locking, the door, he steps into the room with a heavy sigh. He takes the carrier to the bed and sets it down while his mate's surprises get set on the small dining table in the room. He begins to make a 'nest', as Jane just _loves_ to call it, with the pillows and throw for the twins, making sure it'll support them completely and retain their warmth.

Once down, he gently lifts them out one at a time and lays them in the center of the pillows. He must be getting good at it because he barely wakes them, only getting a slight chirp of annoyance at the move, and they are just as quickly back to sleep when he finishes. He's not sure if he should be upset or happy that he doesn't need to sing them to bed, but, judging by their – manly Damocles' – tendency to be more irritated when woken in order to go back to sleep, Garrus will just suffer the neglect to his fatherly pride.

Once done, he undoes his armor, setting it aside on the floor of one of the closets. Clad in his, surprisingly very comfortable, blue and gold undersuit, he explores the room. The rugs are very soft and warm under his bare toes, the suit cut to give them, his spurs, and fingers freedom and mobility, and when he reaches the smooth marble of the kitchenette, it is a chilly contrast. Deciding not to spend any amount of time walking on the near freezing floor, he heads to the bathroom to see this tub the clerk claimed was so great.

Garrus will admit, he definitely didn't give the clerk enough credit.

The tub was _huge_ , at least the size of the bed in the other room, with steps leading into a depth that had to, easily, come up to Jane's neck if she sat on the bench. It was empty now, but, once he set the temperature to something they both would enjoy, it began to fill quickly. Checking the extra features, Garrus even found jets, alternating jets, lights, you name it, this tub probably had it. It was no wonder how people could so easily ignore the war when they had luxuries like this in their homes, to use _every day_.

When he looks around the bathroom for more hidden secrets, he finds some strange spheres. Each one is some sort of color and emits a smell, some fragrance, and he has no clue what in the universe they are, so he sets it down on the counter. Perhaps Jane might know it better, or they could always look it up if neither of them had a clue.

Part way through finding robes for different species, he hears the door and sets down what he's doing, going out to greet his wife as she steps in. "Hey," he rumbles with a smile as he goes to help her with their duffels, dropping them just within the door before cupping her cheeks and kissing her.

She hums against his mouth plates and he can feel her smile before he sees it when she pulls back. "That was a nice welcome home to our hotel."

Snorting, he says, "I can't miss you?" Her smile softens and he strokes a thumb over her cheek before taking her hand to lead her in. "I got you something."

He stops her in front of the table with her presents, hearing her gasp and drop her ballistic vest on the ground in shock. "You… you got me a new guitar?" Her voice is nearly weak and he purrs for her, squeezing her hand as he presses his head to her temple.

"I got you more supplies if you want to start drawing again," he whispers before gently nipping her temple in a soft kiss. "I wanted to give you an outlet to calm when I can't always be there for you."

"Gar-rus." Her whisper breaks halfway through his name before she's hugging him tightly, her fingers digging into his back as he smells the salty scent of tears.

Rumbling in concern, he lifts her chin to look into her eyes, searching her face for the answer of what to say, what to do. She answers for him as she cups his face, nearly pulling him off his feet as she kisses him desperately, crying against his mouth with gasps of, could it be, laughs?

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you," she says over and over between kisses, wrapping her arms around his neck. He has to pick her up eventually, the angle a bit painful with their height differences, but it never stops her, never gets in the way of their tangling tongues.

"I love you, Jane," he says against her, licking away her tears. "I would give you the galaxy if it could fit in your palm. Any and everything for you."

"Fuck. I love you so much, Garrus. I fucking love you."

"There's more," he whispers against her ear.

"More?"

Nodding, he carries her towards the bathroom, helping her out of her clothes as best he can manage in their current situation. "Close your eyes and cover your ears." She raised a brow, but listens, putting her hands over her ears and her eyes closing.

Stepping into the warm bathroom, he sets her down and gently works at undressing her further. He ignores her chuckles and wiggles as he turns off the water, the tub now full, and gently takes her wrists in his hands, releasing her ears. "Open, Jane."

Her emerald eye emerge from red lashes and she looks around, her back to the tub still. "What am I seeing?"

Smirking, he steps from her and motions with his chin. "Turn around." He watches as she listens, turning and releasing a 'holy shit' which makes him chuckle. "I did good, right?"

"More than good. Fan-fucking-tastic." Jane turns to him and grins before hugging him once again. "You're amazing, Garrus."

Purring, he nuzzles her neck before kissing her cheek. "Why don't you jump in and I'll see what I can do about moving the babies in here where we can watch them?" She nods with a smile and starts to climb in. "Oh, and what are these things?" He shows her the orb, letting her take it in hand.

"It's a bath thing… supposed to fizzle up or something in water." She tosses it in her hand before chuckling. "We used to break these things and, whenever someone had an open canteen in basic, drop it in. It was hilarious to watch it overflow with shit like rose petals and glitter while smelling like some floral crap." Holding it up, she takes small smells of it. "Doesn't smell too bad, not like the shit we used. What to try it?"

He shrugs before heading to the bedroom, calling back. "Sure. Don't see anything wrong with it so long as it's not that glitter you were talking about."

As he stops at the bed to collect up the babies, each going into his cowl, he hears Jane shout from the bath. "No promises!"

He chuckles as he rubs their children's back to soothe their chirps and whines at waking. Grabbing two pillows and a small throw blanket, followed by two jars of their food paste, he finally makes it to the bathroom. Unexpectedly, Jane isn't in the tub and he frowns and asks why.

"Because I'd much rather take a bath with you," she answers and, at his brow plate raise, adds, "And it doesn't always have to be about sex… well, maybe a bit."

"Yeah, that's it." Taking her offer to help, he hands her a jar of food and lets her take their slightly smaller daughter. It gives him a chance to use a shallow laundry basket as a makeshift crib, it already partially filled with folded towels that he then adds the pillows to, the blanket to cover their twins once tucked in to keep their warmth.

"Now that looks even more like a nest thanks to that basket," she says with a chuckle, feeding Cassia with her fingers instead of the spoon. 'Faster', she says, but he just considers it her impatience showing. _As long as the babies eat_.

Done, he begins to feed Damocles. "I don't know why you insist on calling it that. Is that some jab at that 'bird' slang?" Her grins says it all and he shakes his head. "You're so mean-"

"And you love it," she interrupts with a smirk, rubbing their daughter's to help ease the food down. Next, she lays Cassia down in the bed, taking Damocles when he's done as well, their boy always a fast eater. As she makes sure the babies are comfortable and ready for bed, at least until they soil themselves, Garrus gets out of his undersuit and waits to get into the water.

"After you," he rumbles with an offered hand. She takes it and he is right behind her to get into the water, sighing at the warmth and relaxing pulses of the jets. "So glad you gave me the requirement to get a tub."

"So glad you happened to find a tub with jets. Holy hell, this feels good."

Neither bothers with the bath orb as they sit next to the other in the tub, soon kissing and running hands over the other. How it moved so fast is a bit of one of those happy mysterious, but eventually those languid touches and kisses turn hot like the water bubbling and swirling around them and then he's pulling her into his lap, licking along her pulse to the sounds of soft whines.

Jane's grinds against his groin in need soon has him shifting, stirring, and he takes her hips in hands to hold her, guide the pressure of her body against his until he emerges directly into her. Both moan and he can't help the jerk, over sensitive at the first instance of sliding out, but he wouldn't trade that amazing, nearly too much, feeling of never hitting air, going from his own body to hers.

As added bonus, he always gets to hear her pleasure when his shape fills completely with blood, his ridges taking full form. She doesn't even pronounce words at this point, simply a long, trembling sigh as she closes her eyes and squeezes around him with her walls in attempt to feel every part of him.

Growling, wishing he could smell her, he slides a hand on her hip to drop his thumb on her clit, circling. She bucks with a moan, but smirks as she returns the effort, lifting slowly, then dropping down hard enough to splash the water. That gets him moaning as he helps her next time, circling with thumb and lifting with his grip.

Their pace builds, both moaning – he growling and thrumming on top of that – and her mouth as his neck to lick and suck as he thumbs her nub and pinches her nipple. She's close, he knows she is, from the way her chest heaves and her riding turns less rhythmic and more to hit all her favorite spots. Let her pleasure herself with him, she not only deserves it, but he certainly gets just as much enjoyment out of her using his body.

She comes undone with a cry of pleasure, her hips undulating around him of their own accord as her walls try to strangle him. Following her with a growling grunt as he presses his face into her neck to lick her sweet sweat, he pulls her ever closer, to bask in the afterglow together.

"I still have a lot of shit to do tomorrow," she groans against his shoulder and he chuckles, rubbing her back. "Gotta talk to damn reporter, Aria wants to see me – God knows why – and I received a message from another Spectre to meet him in the Embassy. Too. Much."

"Victus has taken to the refugee camp, is dealing with speaking to C-Sec and the Council representatives. I think he needs to feel like he's actually doing something where the can _see_ the difference." He purrs and combs some of her hair from her brow. "I'm free aside from checking on my family. Maybe we could ask Liara or someone who stayed on the ship to come watch the twins?"

"If you feel like we can manage it, I'm sure Eve would love to have a chance with them again. They seemed to have helped boost her a bit, Mordin said her levels were up, whatever than means." She looks up to him with a smile and kisses his scarred side, her favorite since they met. "I'd love to have you by my side, Spectre Vakarian."

"I'm always be by your side, Spectre Vakarian," he responds with a chuckle to match hers.


	13. Chapter 13

-Garrus-

There is a soft voice flowing through his sleep, singing nearly too low for him to distinguish the words. He knows the voice, though, and reaches for it, following it into consciousness.

 _Jane shouldn't be awake this early,_ he thinks, knowing there is only one reason for her to be awake before him without the obvious sounds of crying infants to bring them both out of sleep. _She had another nightmare of that foggy world._

Whatever she is singing, he catches only the last bits. "…And the sign said, 'The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls, and tenement halls.' And whispered in the sound of silence."

Sounds of gentle, sleepy purrs explain why she would be singing so early before his eyes open to confirm that his mate's tending to their children. She lays beside him on the bed with both babies nestled on her chest with closing eyes and stilling vocals as they drift off to her humming. Still, with the knowledge neither of the twins had woken and cried to wake them, he knows her being up isn't a good sign, not when she needs to be at her best at all times these days.

"Jane," he whispers as he reaches to her, combing talons through her hair. "Nightmare?" Her nod makes him sigh in irritation at the situation that throws them into this sort of talk without any real solutions. "Damn…"

"Not so bad… I got to spend some time with the twins while you got some rest." She turns her head to smile to him, but he sees through it.

"What was it this time?" he asks, not wanting to know if she saw him again in the form of a Reaper.

Her face tells him his fears before she says, "You again. They were playing with you, which would have be nice to see if you weren't all… you know."

Seeing her frown appear and deepen immediately, he shifts in bed to come closer and press his forehead to hers. There are no words that can help her with her nightmares, nothing to do beyond being beside her through it until this war ends and she can finally have a chance to relax, allow the stresses of command fall from her shoulders. How he wishes he could take her sleepless nights as his own, but the galaxy is never that kind.

"Jane, if I had anything but platitudes-"

"Then I wouldn't be half crazed by nightmares of my husband as a husk," she answers with a slight smirk, even if her eyes are still distant, in that other world. "Really, Garrus. You being here means more than words."

Humming, he pulls the blanket off and gently takes the babies, their sizes still so small he can carry one on each side of his cowl. Jane looks at him with a raised brow, he merely answers by taking the twins and, without waking either of them, sets them into their shared crib, covering them with a soft blanket. He then climbs into bed and gives her no choice but to lay in his arms when he pulls her to his chest.

It seems to be exactly what she had wanted as she rolls into the crook of his legs, burying her face against his chest and wrapping her arms tightly around his upper waist. Her back is tense under his hands and her eyes clench as her lip trembles, cracks beginning to show, but her doesn't speak of it, doesn't do anything but hold her ever closer and purr deeply in loving comfort.

The room is quiet aside from the shared breaths of the family, all in different tones and speeds, as they simply hold one another. His vocals and soft caresses over her shoulders and back seem to help ease the tension in her body, the pain from her nightmares, as soon her breaths slow enough to match the ones he recognizes. Soon, her eyes open and look up to him, still wet from unshed tears, but grateful in the weak smile she gives.

"What would I ever do without you?" Her voice is a soft whisper, her hand lifting to caress his scarred mandible.

"Probably run into open fire without backup," he replies, loving that soft snort she gives as his sign he succeeded in lifting her spirits.

Smiling, she shifts up onto her hands to they are looking eye to eye with the other. "And I'd be out of a Turian screaming in my comm about line of fire too."

"I don't scream, I insist loudly." That gets another snort before she leans down and kisses him, he gladly taking that as his opportunity to slide his tongue against her own, curling around and stroking.

"I got you something too, yesterday," she says when they finally part. "I wanted to keep it a surprise until we were on the ship, but I said 'fuck it' and had it sent here."

"Oh? And what is it? Wait, let me try to figure it out-"

"You always ruin it with that damn detective mode of yours."

"-If it's being 'sent'," he continues through her protest, rumbling with a smirk in acknowledgment to hearing her. "Then it's something you not only purchased, but cannot conceal on your person. Explains why you didn't just bring it with the duffels last night. Knowing our lifestyle, it isn't some impractical. Also, since you haven't once tried to replace my weapons since we've been working together except for gifting the Widow, I'd say it's armor."

"…no."

"No, huh?" He lifts a brow plate and continues, "Because there's something else I didn't mention that has lead me to thinking it's armor, your insistence than everyone have more than one, sometimes more than two, armor kits. Seeing as how I only have the one that fits as well as the camouflaged kit that is only a standard heavy armor kit, it would be logical that you have gone out and purchased one because you are tired of me not doing it myself." Smirking, he rumbles when she narrows her eyes. "Has my observation skills suffered over the years out of C-Sec, or have I gotten it right?"

"Dammit," she sighs out. "I can never get you anything before you go and ruin it with your damn 'observation skills'. Here you are beating me at little gifts and I can't come up with anything besides armor… how stupid is that?"

"Are you really comparing me getting you a sketching set and guitar to you getting me armor? I got you those things because I know you need an outlet all your own, no responsibilities and no reliance on anyone but your own imagination and thoughts." He sits up and cups her face, rumbling. "Jane, we are soldiers fighting a war right this moment. You getting me armor is no different than me buying those supplies. Where I look to give you a sense of sanity in all this, you want to ensure I will never be without the _best_ in armor, even if one kit is damaged."

"Maybe, when the war is over, we won't have to give the other gifts with ulterior motives attached."

He snorts playfully and says, "I'm still keeping my gun collection."

Suddenly, a few chimes come from the bedside clock. " _Good morning_ ," the room VI announces. " _This is your reminder that you have a meeting with Miss Al-Jilani in ninety minutes. Would you like this reminder to repeat?_ "

"No," he answers for his wife, looking to her. "Since when do you set alarms to see reporters?"

"Since there's a chance they might help the war effort," she says as she gets up out of bed, giving him a great, if distracting, view of her round hips and plump rear. Dammit if that doesn't make him want to forget their supposed duties for the day and spend the entire day using up all the remaining contracept-

_Did we use anything last night? Crap… can't really tell her now, though. Maybe Mordin is right about it only being a precaution against a near zero percentage._

"-and since you are _obviously_ not listening, I'm just going to assume you're okay with me finding a juggling varren to watch the babies."

"What? Varren? What?" He trills and blinks at her in confusion. "Who's watching the kids?"

Snorting, she starts to redress, much to his disappointment. "Liara says she isn't doing anything but working off-ship, so she agreed to come over here to watch the babies. That lets us get the shit we need to do while we're here done and over with."

"Which is?"

"Give Al-Jilani her exclusive on whatever it is she wants to ask me, within reason, visit Thane, meet up with a Spectre Bau to assist him with something, make sure we've stocked up on supplies… and deal with whatever shit pops up." She sighs as he, seeing that she's mostly dressed now, comes up behind her and starts to run talons through her hair, combing to put it up out of her face. "That always feels nice," she adds with a soft smile as she closes her eyes.

"Seems we are alike, you with your hair-"

"And you and your fringe." Chuckling together, they hear the VI announcing a visitor. "That's probably Liara with your new armor crate. Stay here… we've already scarred her enough with that meld on the SR1."

"I am not responsible nor to blame for whatever you showed Liara during a meld," he says with a look at her, not sure he wants to know what could have been so bad to 'scar' the Asari woman from ever seeing him without clothes on – _plates not even spread, mind you_. She merely snorts and walks to the door, opening it a bit to look out at their visitor.

"Liara," he hears her say. "How did I know it's you? Feel free to come in, but Garrus is naked so…"

"As long as I'm not forced into seeing… _that_ again." _And now I'm curious what Jane is thinking about me…_ he thinks as he grabs his undersuit, pulling it on just as his wife lets Liara in. Behind her is an armor crate on one of the rentable luggage carriers from downstairs, the VI steering it into the room behind the Asari. "I was able to have James and EDI assist me with transporting this, so the rest of the crew still doesn't know where you are."

"Nice," his wife says with a grin as she snaps her ballistic vest's closures. "The less likely I am to be bothered or the fewer people who can just blab out something they aren't supposed to." T'Soni nods in understanding as she goes to lay her travel bag on the desk in the room, datapads filling its pockets and a portable terminal in the main pouch. "You aren't moving in, are you?"

"Please, Shepard. This is just to keep track of my network while off the ship," Liara answers with a playful eye roll before putting her hands on her hips and motioning the crate. "I saw a nice Asari tea stand a few meters from here I'd like to try." They both nod in understanding as Liara steps out with a smile, leaving them alone to see to his gift.

Jane stands aside with a motion to the crate in 'all yours' and he purrs, stopping to press a soft kiss to her cheek before he moves to it. Popping the biometric locks - _Spectre grade armor, then_ – he lifts the lid with a rumble, eyes widening at the armor within.

What jumps out immediately are the colors, blue, black, and gold… colors he hasn't worn together in what seems like ages ago. Aside from the armor itself are numerous built in compartments and holsters for all manner of weapons and munitions. Yet, that doesn't come close to what he finds when he picks up the cowl guard, what is hand painted onto the very center piece of plating, the insignia of Archangel, _his_ insignia.

"Jane," he rumbles in stunned amazing as his talons gently trace the metallic paint. "This is…"

He feels her hand land on his shoulder and, when he looks to her, sees a warm smile with that fire he knows all too well in her eyes. "Welcome back, Archangel."

Chuckling, he hands her the cowl guard to grab the chest piece and begin to suit up. "Part of me thinks you just want me around for Archangel."

She snorts and sets the cowl down to help him, saying, "You _are_ Archangel, this is just to show everyone else that." He chuckles at her smirk as she snaps on his cowl guard. "I dub this your Badass Archangel Armor and your other one your Badass Praetor Armor."

"You know, before I'd have thought politics didn't need armor, but those six months have made me reconsider." The last of his armor goes on with a loud snap of the locks and whirr of the onboard tech, his visor syncing, and Jane brings him he weapons. "I like this armor," he says with a roll of his shoulders to test the maneuverability and turns to her with a purr. "Thank you, Jane."

She smiles and, when he cups her cheek, leans into him. "Never thank me for looking out for you just as much as you do me."

"I love you, Jane."

"I love-" The door of the hotel beeping in request for admittance and warning when Liara steps in, smiling when she sees his new armor. "Guess that means tranquility is over," she says as she picks up her own pistol and holsters it on her hip. "Liara, we'll keep in touch on our status. No clue how long we'll be gone, but ping us if there's anything."

"Of course, Shepard. I won't expect you until late."

With that, they leave their twins in the hands of a maiden Asari who seems more a babysitter than anyone else on the Normandy – _funny how one of the oldest in years is more the youngest in mentality –_ but someone who has proven capable already. If anything, Liara's actions with Damocles and Cassia when they have to drop to the ground has calmed the tension, eased the anger between them.

Following the hail from Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani, they head to the meeting place on the Presidium and find the reporter speaking with citizens. _If_ that's what it could be called when it _really_ looks like she's harassing them like she so often does with his own wife, a woman who, despite his every thought otherwise, has agreed to undergo such treatment _on a regular basis_.

"Commander Shepard," she shouts when she sees them approaching, leaving some poor Salarian alone to come as quickly as she can in that long gown of hers. "Reports are coming in that the Reapers have recently touched down on Sur'Kesh following the Normandy's entrance into the Pranas System. Some are even claiming that your presence was the sole reason for the Reapers taking notice of the Salarian homeworld. What do you have to say to these accusations?"

"Reminding you that I cannot divulge information that is vital to the war effort, there is nothing I can tell you about the Normandy's whereabouts." His wife takes a parade rest and looks into the other woman's eyes. "As for the second claim, there is only _one_ reason the Reapers target anyone," green eyes turn to the camera, scowl in her stern brows. "They are wiping _every_ last one of us _out_. You want someone to blame? Then look to our politicians for sitting on their asses, holding back when it's all we can do to stick together and _fight_ before we can't anymore."

"Very well put, Commander. Couldn't have said it better myself." She opens a datapad and looks at the scrolling print. "After doing some research, Commander, I have found that your title of 'Shepard' is, in fact, not accurate, and that you are, legally, Jane _Vakarian_. A name which you share with your husband that has also accompanied you to this interview, Spectre and Praetor Garrus Vakarian."

He knows Al-Jilani is barely containing her scowl, shoulders tensing at having to stay professional and set aside her tabloid journalism for this exclusive right to interview the two of them. "Could your… relationship with such a high ranking member of the Hierarchy explain the quick alliance between them and the human Alliance? Should other species be considered this has become a union of the two most powerful militaries in the galaxy?"

This is where Garrus has to cut in, has to explain something about this war and their marriage. "Neither of us are the ones negotiating and agreeing to any allegiances. The only person in the Hierarchy with that power is Primarch Victus and Commander Shepard is directly reporting to and for Admiral Hackett."

"But, as a Praetor-"

"I believe you have my duties confused," he interrupts. "As a Praetor, my duty is to advise the Primarch concerning the Reaper threat and how best to defend ourselves and fight back. The best option we have just so happens to be allying ourselves together, but that alliance is not exclusive, any species is welcome and encouraged to band together."

He looks to his wife to see her nod of agreement as she takes his lead and continues. "We are unable to speak of the particulars of the negotiations underway, but there's a hell of a lot more than can be done. People need to get off their asses and start holding their leaders to the fire, getting on them about their involvement in the war effort until it's too late."

Pausing, Jane steps closer and drops her professional stance and her voice so the camera cannot detect. "And as for my marriage - which I _know_ you want to sink your claws in - it wouldn't be very smart if you went about it your usual ways. We all know you like this deal, so don't fuck it up with your racist bullshit." With that, she steps back into place in front of the camera.

A near audible sigh escapes Khalisah's lips before she regains her composure, swallowing up the scowl in distaste for the news she found and irritation at not being able to vent before her viewers on it for fear of losing her best story, or stories if this arrangement lasts longer than this one interview. "One last question, Commander… Shepard?"

"That makes it less confusing given our working together, yes," Jane answers with an agreeing nod from him.

"Very well, Commander Shepard," she says with a nod of her chin before continuing on without pause. "There are reports of sightings of a 'Commander Shepard' in the lower region of the United States the rallying troops of the resistance. What do you have to say to these reports? Where _you_ on Earth after previously fleeing the Sol System?"

"First, I didn't _flee_ ," his wife corrects with a slight shift in her eyes, a warning to Al-Jilani to watch her tone and words carefully before they start to sound too much like accusation. "Second, I haven't even been in the southern region of North American since N-training, so that isn't me. I will, however, say that, while strange, if someone is down there trying to boost morale, I'm not going to condemn them. I'd suggest they stop, however, because 'being me' is dangerous, and stupid, in this war."

"Harsh, Commander, but I guess it's only understandable considering the responsibility of actions from those claiming to be you." _Reminds me of someone else we know who was invoking Jane's name for things that only ended up causing them more headaches…_ , he thinks as Khalisah says, "I believe that I've taken enough of your time, Commander Shepard. Thank you."

With camera off, the woman's features turn into a scowl. "I can't believe it, I was _right_. This whole time you _have_ been in a relationship with a Turian. Do you have any idea what my viewers will think-"

"When you don't speak a word of it," Garrus interrupts with a warning growl. "You have already made it difficult by even bringing attention to our marriage. Now any and all Terra Firma or Dominus Superus that see or hear of your show is a threat. That makes _you_ a threat."

His step forward is blocked by a hand from his wife as she says, "Remove that information from your story before you release it or don't release the interview at all."

"What?! You just said I had an exclusive-"

"To stories on the war, our marriage doesn't pertain to the war, so you edit that out and leave that information for whatever snoops like you to find out, or I let my hand drop." He growls down at the woman and hears her sigh.

"Good choice," he says as he steps away. "Commander _Shepard_ ," he is sure to say it with a pointed look at the other woman, "I believe we have other matters to attend to."

Matters that included a fellow Spectre asking for assistance looking into intel accusing high-level Hanar officials of being indoctrinated, indoctrination, _apparently_ , being what Garrus and his wife are 'experts' at. Yet, it went even deeper when it connected not only the Hanar, but Batarians _and_ humans to the Reaper tech, all hidden under a false Alliance report to hide possible retaliation.

What was, at least, familiar was _where_ Jondum Bau received his info. Info that, now looking back, had actually proven to be something worth starting a possible war over. Not that it would now considering the much bigger war – and the fact that one side is all but annihilated – at hand.

The person responsible for bringing the three Spectres together in search for an indoctrinated Hanar is none other than Kasumi Goto, the currently cloaked thief chattering over the comm with his wife. What do they talk about while they are supposed to be separated across the station to track down information? Everything from crew on the ship, Goto's history – which can either be taken one way or another with their shared admiration – with Bau, her reluctance to join up on the Normandy, to the oddity of Hanar mistresses.

"Shepard," he says shortly over the comm they share with the other Spectre. "I've found names of new arrivals listed before your lobbyist's first appearance in the polls. Sending it to you, Bau."

"Damn. All face names," The Spectre curses something the translator doesn't pick up. "The Alliance raid reports only have their soul names. And soul names are private… I believe I have an idea. Return to the Embassies, I will try to see if I can collaborate our data and find the missing link here in their personal correspondence."

Garrus meets his mate, and the cloaked thief as he assumes, at the lift and they ride, and the following transit, to the Embassies. When they arrive, Jondum is waiting and alerts them to their target, a Hanar working here in the Embassies. So it's back on another too slow lift they go, heading down into the actual offices of the building, where the officials of government and lobbyists work while within the 'safety' of being close to their ambassadors and political heads.

Bau takes lead, this being his mission, after all, while they assist, and Garrus takes no risks, lifting his weapon as he follows the other two down the long hallway to the office of 'Zymandis'. Stepping into the large office, he eyes the human, merc by the stance of him, and registers how fast it will be to pull the trigger twice to drop both the merc and the Hanar before they can even raise a weapon.

Yet, he lets the Spectre lead. This his mission, after all.

"Our planetary defense network is largely automated." _Strange how indoctrination works in a very similar way across species, blinding the victim to some things in a way that they see truth in what's missing._ "It can be disabled with a single virus… which I have just uploaded."

Not hearing Bau, eyes only on the moving merc, Garrus spins and whips the butt of his gun into the man's face. The mercenary's face makes a sickening crack that comes with plenty of red blood before he falls to the ground, a shot ringing out as Jane fires her weapon at the Hanar agent.

The Salarian is at the terminal and speaks. "- _translator glitch_ \- the virus is uploaded onto two channels-"

"I got it!" Kasumi decloaks and slides over the desk, jumping at the other terminal and quickly tapping at the terminal in time with the Spectre at the other beside her. "Upload's disabled… Looks like-"

Goto's shocked gasp has both Garrus and Jane's heads snap over to the two just as Bau yells, "Get down!" and shoves the woman aside, the Hanar's terminals set with an explosive failsafe within the hardware that sends them both flying.

"Holy shit," his mate whispers as she rushes over, holstering her weapon as she starts to search for injuries. Garrus comes to help, hefting a Spectre sporting what looks like a dislocated shoulder and bloody mouth while Jane helps up Kasumi, a little beaten up, but saved by Bau's quick thinking.

"You… you were here the whole time. I intended to arrest you…"

Jane chuckles at his disbelief. "But?"

"But," Jondum adds, holding out a hand to Kasumi. "You have helped save the Hanar homeworld."

"I guess the fun will continue, then, Bau-san." Her painted lips quirk as she disappears.

His mate lifts a brow to the man as she takes his arm in hand, ready to snap it back. Taking a deep breath, the Spectre waits for the pain as he says, "I have been going after her for years." A loud, pained grunt as his joint makes an audible snap into place. "… Almost shame to… end."

Garrus rumbles in understanding to that sort of pain that leaves you breathless, offering to let Bau catch it before speaking. "Kasumi was with us against the Collectors."

"Unexpected, but I can't say entirely out of character for her." The Salarian Spectre wipes his mouth, holding his stomach – _probably has a broken rib or two_ – and adds, directed to them, "It was an honor to work with the both of you. When the time comes, I will be there to return the favor… with a few friends."

"So long as those friends bring guns," Jane remarks with a chuckle and shake of hands, watching him go. "Kasumi? I know you're still here."

"I'm ignoring you, Shep."

Seeing his mate roll her eyes, he offers a possible solution. "The Broker can always use more agents, bringing in supplies, people, tech… anything and everything."

"And think of all that expensive tech just… lying around," Jane adds.

Chuckling, Kasumi smirks. "You guys says the nicest things and I won't lie, it'll be fun to be back in the gossip pool… Oh, alright. I'm in."


	14. Chapter 14

-Garrus-

Purgatory was one of the only places on the Citadel to see the effect of the war, to, finally, see in people the fear and anxiety brought to the galaxy on the Reapers' backs. It was obvious in their eyes, the way they moved, and with each drink they downed, they were attempting to detach and distance themselves from the war. Each level, from the VIP to the public floors towering above, there are the forms and presence of pulsing, moving bodies that struggle to live within the moment, setting aside the fears of reality.

Perhaps, in a way, that's why he and Jane find themselves here, first sharing a drink with Vega and some fellow marines about to be deployed, then sharing a short drink with Joker and conversation with EDI, followed by a drinking to forgetting with Cortez, and finally finding themselves alone in a booth out of their crew's eyes. Once alone, their drinks have slowed dramatically to a single glass each that has been mostly untouched as they simply sit close, sharing the occasional, unabashed kisses and touches like fledglings – or whatever the human term for adolescence is.

"Jane," he growls, lifting his chin to her ministrations of tongue and lips at his neck currently making his new armor very uncomfortable. "We have company."

She stops and looks up to him, following his motion to the approaching Turian, dressed in armor. _Merc,_ he thinks, and feels his mate shift to sit straight, knowing she is preparing to draw her weapon same as him if need be. _So much for trying to relax._

"Aria wants to see you," the human says with little more than a grunt.

"Yeah?" Jane raises a single brow. "Didn't she already pull that one on Omega? Wait… Grizz, right?" His growl is answer enough as he crosses his arms, Garrus subvocally growling back to 'watch it' as his mate continues. "How about you let Aria know that I'm not working right now. Commander Fucking Shepard needs a God damn break too," she lowers her voice as she scowls and adds, "We don't all get to sit on couches all damn day."

"Aria, now," is all the Turian says as he turns and leaves.

Groaning in annoyance, Jane stands and he asks, "You really going to tend to her ego, Jane?"

"She might have something worth value, Garrus." Shaking her head, she holds a hand to stop him from standing. "Stay here, that way I can use you as an excuse to leave if this conversation just turns into her waving her nonexistent blue dick around. Maybe get us a drink for the road? Oh, or a bottle of something nice to take back to our room, we can find peace there."

He chuckles as he stands and, with a parting kiss, heads to the bar. At least, as a Praetor and, quite frankly, part of the Hierarchy again, he can afford something decent and fitting to both their tastes. Strange how she likes to drink something almost too sweet and nearly void of the bite of the alcohol when drinking wine while also enjoying some of the strongest liquor she can find in settings like this club, even without the intent of getting drunk. He tends to prefer something spicy and rich that gives that warmth on his tongue and down his throat, but there's no way he'd get her to drink that, she only enjoying it on his tongue – _and, damn, does she really love kissing him after he has a glass._

"I don' believe it," a very familiar, hardly comprehensible through his translators, voice says. Looking over his shoulder to see the source, Garrus chuckles at the approaching pair of former Normandy engineers, Kenneth Donnelly and Gabby Daniels, actually happy to see them alive and well by the relieved grin on their faces. "We had no idea you and Shepard were alive."

He gives each of their hands a firm shake before they step up to the bar beside him, Daniels proclaiming, "I knew nothing would take you two down for long. Didn't I tell you, Kenneth?"

"It's good to see you," Garrus rumbles as he pays for the bottle of wine. "Though, I can't say I'm all too pleased to see your time being spent in a bar instead of flying on a ship with everything that's happening."

Donnelly rubs his neck as they both, as if sharing thoughts, drop their eyes from him. "We heard about Earth and about Cerberus _attacking_ people they're supposed to be helping. Can' believed we ever worked for the bastards."

"'Worked'?"

Gabby nods, "Yeah, 'worked'. We only ever joined Cerberus to work for Shepard, to be there on the Normandy."

"When she decided to return to Earth and the Alliance grounded the Normandy, there was no way we were goin' back to Cerberus. And it wasn't just about not bein' able to work for Shepard anymore, something just wasn't right…"

"So we got out of there, slipped away before Cerberus even knew we were gone," Daniels explains.

Rumbling in knowledge of what 'going back' could have meant for the two, Garrus simply nods. "You made a good choice, Cerberus has become even more of a problem than their usefulness. Without the need for an alliance to take down the Collectors, they're nothing more than an obstacle between us and the Reapers."

"It's time to pay them pack right in the daddy bags," Kenneth says with a wide grin.

Nodding, Gabby looks up to Garrus, eyes searching his face. "Let us join you and Shepard. We will gladly serve on whatever ship you're flying. We want to help, Garrus… sir."

Chuckling, he nods and takes his bottle in hand, giving them what they ask for when he says, "Garrus is fine. Get whatever you need for your duties and deployment on the Normandy within eighteen hours. Dock D-24."

"Best damn ship in the galaxy… and we get to fly on 'er again?"

"Wouldn't be Shepard if she didn't manage to break the Normandy out." She nudges her close friend with a chuckle before looking back to Garrus. "Thank you, Garrus. We'll be onboard and ready for duty."

He nods in understanding and lets them order their celebratory drinks, taking his leave to seek out his wife. Finding her climbing up the steps with a scowl on her face, he doesn't directly question what it was Aria wanted, instead letting her lead him out of the club and towards the transits. It's only once they are in a cab that she starts.

"So, turns out the dumb bitch lost Omega to Cerberus. That's why she's here. It's also why she expects me to drop everything and help her."

"Help her how?" Looking to her from the controls and navigation to their first chosen destination – because there's no way he'd trust her to drive anything ever again, let alone when she's angry – he takes in her tense shoulders, scowl, and near broken arms from how tightly she holds her arms crossed.

"Two things… one, she wants me to come barking when she finds a way back on Omega-"

"Which I sincerely hope you won't do."

"- _and_ it's a pretty good idea to get her off her lazy ass and Cerberus off one of the largest hubs in the Terminus, the bigger being Illium. There's no telling what they can do on that rock, but that's not entirely what she wants _now_."

Growling at her actually considering helping Aria regain Omega and at the fact that she's somewhat right – _weakening Cerberus, in any way, would definitely be a benefit, even small_ – Garrus sighs and asks, "So what is it she wants _'now'_?

"Mercenaries."

"What?" he snaps and looks at her, growling low. "You've _got_ to be kidding."

She shakes her head and turns her glare on him. "You think I _want_ to? They're already out of Omega space and practically up our asses, and with her keeping a half-assed hold on their leashes, which is worse? Her no longer even trying to contain them or her having their complete allegiance and control?"

"So you're just _handing her the mercs?_ "

"I have no choice!" His mate throws her hands up in frustration. "It's either let her have them or they are still free agents thinking they can just walk all over people in this war. The merc leaders she wants are on this damn station for shit's sake. You expect these people to be better off without her 'controlling' the mercs?"

"Or you could control the situation," he says with a hum of a thought. _It just might be crazy enough to work_. "Merely make them believe they work for T'Loak, she has the power, and we are nothing but another of her pets on her leash."

"Now you've piqued my interest. How the hell do you think we would do that?" She looks over to him with her green eyes, frowning a bit in confusion. "She's got connections, Garrus, _and_ she's about to have control of the Omega-based Blue Suns, Blood Pack, and Eclipse if we help her."

"Why do you think Aria doesn't like Spectres? Could it be she actually _fears_ something?" Her brow raises and expression changes in following his train of thought, not immediately dismissing him. "What if two of those Spectres are both the man that nearly wiped her station clean and the woman she has continuously had to call on to tend to her own matters? A woman and man that she is now calling on for help gaining loyalties _she_ should be getting off her ass for and who she might also ask for back up regaining her very station?"

"How does this lead to us to controlling the situation?"

"By showing we have what she doesn't, that actual ability to back up our promises of pain or death to those who defy. I saw it on Omega and I see it even more now that you say she lost her own station. Aria's gotten too comfortable on her throne, having her men do her dirty work while she lives off the stories of what she was once capable of. She's no longer the woman that deceived and took down the 'mighty Patriarch', she is just the next soon-to-be-overthrown former ruler. It's just a matter of years - if we ever manage to beat the Reapers - before someone does to her what she did to gain her thrown."

"Damn, I love it when you school _me_ in playing the field, show those tactics that pissed off every merc on Omega."Sitting up, Jane opens her tool and begins typing something. "What do you say we put the fear of Shepard and Vakarian, the Spectre and Archangel, into these mercs, let them know who really wears the pants in this relationship with Aria? Let's make them think we're pets to T'Loak, all while manipulating this situation under her nose."

"Exactly. We'll either gain a mercenary army for the war effort, or have it blow up horribly in our faces." He chuckles dryly. "What could possibly go wrong?"

She snorts and closes her tool. "Hopefully nothing considering your face can't take another hit. Let's get out here and get this done with."

Pulling the skycar at the outside of a shady apartment complex, he lifts a brow plate. "Do I want to know who we are meeting? Let me guess, Blood Pack?" She chuckles as answer as she opens her door, he following. "How did I know," he deadpans with little enthusiasm to really deal with these mercs, no matter their ultimate plan. It just grinds against his plates the wrong way even after so much that's happened since his stint as a vigilante.

Stepping into the lift that smells too much of urine and blood for him to want to look down at his boots for fear of seeing it seeping out of the carpet from his weight, they ride it up to the twenty-sixth floor. At least the hall is dark enough to blind him from seeing much more than silhouettes of any figures laying in the floor or possible stains covering the floors or walls. This place, one of the less reputable on the Citadel that does, in fact, exist on a station claimed to be the best the galaxy has to offer, reminds him of Omega, never-ending wails of blaring skycars of screams of crime victims still ringing in his ears even today, and he feels his blood heating, two years of conditioning waking Archangel from deep down in his chest.

As they come up to a door, Jane gives it three hard pounds with her fist. Moments later, it opens to a near frantic Batarian that throws it open, looks up and down the hall, and motions them to quickly enter.

"Quick, hands behind your back," he barks and Garrus growls, but catching a slight hand twitch from his mate in 'hold' so he waits. "They'll be here any minute."

"You're about two seconds from having your throat ripped out, so explain, _fast_ ," she snaps with a narrowing of her eyes.

"Wait, who's he?" The man's four eyes blink before he shakes it off. "Look, doesn't matter. Aria brings the Blood Pack Shepard and Sledge pledges loyalty. But you're just bait –big guy too, I guess. We're taking him out, passing down command." Heavy footsteps approach and his eyes narrow. "He's coming! Hurry the hell up and put your hands behind your backs, heads down!"

Tightening his fists, Garrus forces himself to listen, standing before directly behind the Batarian beside his wife. He wholeheartedly agrees with his wife's threat of what will happen should there be a betrayal and quickly disengages the combat knife from the holster on his thigh before crossing his hands behind his back.

They drop their eyes just as the doors open, a Krogan flanked by three Vorcha entering. Garrus holds back his growl just as the apparent Sledge begins to speak. "Well, well, well. Seems Aria wasn't talking out her ass," the Krogan lifts Jane's head with a finger under her chin and two of the Vorcha start to move closer. "First the station and now this!" Smirking, Sledge steps back and looks to the Turian before back to Garrus' wife, like they were meat. "And a Turian too… Shepard, your pretty little head will be a nice addition to my ship's hull. And you," he chuckles darkly as he approaches. "I'm thinking I'll use yours _personally_."

Growling, Garrus takes a split second to scan and take in the field, finding all enemies and their positions, and moves faster than anyone can react. His combat knife he stabs directly into Sledge's eye, hard enough to sink it in halfway past the grip. This temporarily stuns the Krogan while he punches the Vorcha on his left in the sternum, hearing the crack and using the momentum of its collapse to throw the body over his shoulder, and directly behind his wife's back, to crash into the other that has circled around. Both collapse into a groaning heap that Jane takes under her boot as he draws his weapon and, just as Sledge locks the single eye in a bloody-thirsty rage onto him, pulls the trigger, sending a munition meant for a charging Brute through the Krogan's skull.

Turning his gun to the last remaining Vorcha, the Batarian yells, "Wait! Not him!"

That only gains a slight release of pressure from the trigger, but no more. "Talk fast."

"Gryll's the next in line. Aria's deal is with him."

"Yes! Yes!" the green skinned Vorcha says with a jerky nod. "I Aria's mole. You scratch back, I scratch back."

He growls and thinks about pulling the trigger anyways when Jane steps beside him, control painted over her features. "Word of advice. Remember who just wiped out three people in less than a minute, one of which was a Krogan."

"Double cross us and your death won't be as quick as theirs," he adds with a low, threatening snarl.

"Ambitious. Not crazy!" Gryll hisses and Garrus lowers his weapon, finger still remaining on the trigger and eyes never leaving the Vorcha, clearly unnerving the twitchy man.

Giving him a hand signal to keep alert, Jane raps a knuckle on his armored forearm. "We're out, Vakarian."

He gives a terse nod and, showing he has no fear of the two men, turns to follow her. The two may not know the clearly Turian way of dismissing an enemy as not even worthy of direct attention and caution, but he can't help the smirk as he hears the two whispering in hush, stunned, tones of the destruction in their wake.

When they get into a skycar and she sets a destination, she stops him from starting the skycar. He's about to ask for explanation when she grabs his cowl and yanks him forward, shoving her tongue into his mouth with a loud moan. Growling, he reciprocates the sloppy, forceful kiss of tongue and nips from her flat teeth, his talons tangling in her hair as he smells her scent ramp up.

"Fuck," she pants out when they part, panting. "That was fucking sexy, Garrus. Now _that's_ some expert hand-to-hand action. Don't even let me get into an all-out brawl with you."

He chuckles and shifts to fight his plates back shut before his suit gets uncomfortable, starting up the skycar to distract himself. "You'd still win. You have that one thing that would easily defeat me."

"What's that? The ability to just flash some nipple and distract you?"

He snorts and corrects her, "More like there's much more _entertaining_ things we could be doing in such close quarters."

Smirking, she silently agrees in the very way she shifts in the seat to get a better look up and down over him. He had a bit of an idea what him letting Archangel out does to her, but he still likes, no _loves_ , to see she reactions when he lets himself out, enacts his own special kind of justice. However, he can't act on her current state because, the closer they come to their destination, the more he sees that they are headed towards his old place of employment, the looming C-Sec Academy filling up the viewport of the car.

He has a feeling that whatever they are here for, it will include more than violence to get this mercenary leader's loyalty. He also knows this situation smells an awful lot like bureaucracy and owing favors, as many visits to C-Sec on their own accord tend to go.

Walking in, he watches the looks of star struck awe and curiosity at the two Spectres, on heavily armed while both are sporting some amount of blood from their previous encounter somewhere on their bodies, she her boots and pant legs while he has a spattering of Krogan orange right across his chest. Granted, Jane received the more positive, childlike hushed whispers and he the ones of shocked disbelief – _'Wonder what's with his face'… 'Why's someone like him just walking into the Academy?' … 'Damn, look at those scars'…_ \- but he couldn't care less, even smirks inwardly that, in a way, the scars only add to his ability to intimidate people without he having to do anything.

His wife may have the reputation to defy her looks, but he's got the image to match his secret identity's reputation. One they are using well against these mercs without them even knowing it.

Coming into the new office of the Executor, he rumbles to see Chellick look up from his terminal. The man looks no different under the fancy clothes of his position than he did years ago, holding himself behind his desk in much the same way he once did when they had had long days of the more boring part of their jobs. How Chellick managed to stay so calm under the piles of paperwork and even found himself in this position is still a mystery to him, but it may actually pay off now that they find themselves with an old friend at the top of the chain of command.

"Ah, Spectres Vakarian," the Executor greets with a hum as he puts his terminal to sleep. "How may I help you?"

"Depends. Can we speak to you as Garrus and Jane?" His mate goes to one of the seats before the desk at his offer, Garrus following, and says, "We need a professional favor."

"I'm starting to think you two only come to see me in order to ask something of me." He chuckles and relaxes in his chair. "Granted, I don't often find myself outside of work, so I guess I wouldn't see you otherwise. What is it?"

Humming and not believing he's actually playing along, Garrus speaks. "Jona Sederis of Eclipse." Decian frowns at that. "We're trying to build an army."

"And you think Eclipse would help that?" A single brow plate raises in skepticism. "You _do_ know that woman is clearly insane and unstable, right? If I release her, she can pose more a risk to innocent people that she can help your war effort. The answer is 'no'."

"What if we tell you we don't plan on letting her live?" Jane sits up from her slouch in the chair. "Every merc company has a line of succession and we plan to use that against them, put the fear of repercussions should they decide they want to get out of hand, kill some people for the hell of it."

"And you plan to do that _how_?"

Smirking because he knows exactly what she's thinking, he answers his friend. "By making them fear the ghost of Archangel." He looks to Jane, knowing exactly how to do it without putting his identity at risk. "One of my old team, before I took them on, used to leave a calling card, something with the symbol painted on it. She still did it when she worked under me."

Chellick rumbles as he crosses his hands under his chin. "You understand this cannot be tracked to C-Sec. If you do it as a Spectre, than that is your choice and your authority, but I cannot make this look like we are working with you. As for your 'Archangel' business, I don't know enough about what happened to you, but, as a friend, I hope you will be careful. Getting in with the mercs doesn't seem like something good for either of you."

"Don't worry, Decian," she assures with a smile. "As far as the mercs know, Archangel is dead. They won't know who this ghost is."

"And if they do?"

"Then we give them a reason to fear him again. What says 'don't fucking try to take down Archangel' than seeing him as the man co-leading the war effort, all the armies of the galaxy?"

Garrus nods in agreement with her, knowing that he will do anything and everything to anyone that stands in his way or even so much as _thinks_ about trying for retribution. Not that he'd expect it, mercs aren't known for their loyalty to the dead and past leaders whose death only benefitted them with the chance to raise in ranks.

"If I go through with this, you must promise me one thing." The two of them both nod in agreement, knowing they'll do pretty much whatever it takes. Decian was never one to ask for unobtainable favors as it was, so they are more than willing to hear him out. "I've received reports that the Blue Suns are raiding C-Sec weapons shipments, but we are already stretched too thin with refugees and preparing for the war to choke hold them by using a bait shipment. Plus, with an even greater number of the mercenaries now on the station, there is no way we'd be able to put together simultaneous raids to make an impact before they regroup and develop a new strategy."

"We… might have a way to do that, get them off your backs." _She's going to call in her favor with their new head… if he still is willing to fulfill his part of the deal._

"That's not entirely what the issue is," he adds, making Jane frown in confusion. "This issue has come to make me believe that our weapons are not fit if the war reaches us. C-Sec needs more, better than standard issue weapons."

Garrus nods in understanding and agreement. With C-Sec as the only 'army' the Citadel has, more and better weapons are a must, no matter how long it takes the Reapers to finally arrive here. "You have any leads on how to get these weapons?"

"No, but I have an informant that does," he explains. "General Oraka was recently reinstated and he is currently working for C-Sec to try and procure these weapons. I will be able to set up a meeting for you to go to him and hear what he's found. As Spectres, do what you do best and get me those weapons."

"Understood. And thank you." As Jane uses words, Garrus ducks his head with a rumble of vocal thanks.

Chellick nods in return to them both, walking them out of his office. "I have one more thing." Smiling, he takes their hands and gives each a warm, yet firm, shake. "I once thought your bond was more detrimental and less practical than the mythic nonsense most claim comes with it, but I was wrong. The two of you may be the only thing keeping this galaxy together now that the Reapers have come to tear it apart." Garrus received a friendly pat on his shoulder from the older man as Decian smiles at them both. "Meet Captain Bailey at our holding and do what you need to. And Spirits guide you to victory."

They part with thanks and well wishes, heading down at his lead to the holding cells meant for more dangerous criminals. If what Chellick is right and this woman is as out of control as they claim, then she's bound to be in isolation.

True to his assumption, they find Bailey waiting just outside the beginning of the long way to Solitary. He nods in terse greeting at their approach and offers a hand. "You too, huh? Damn woman is a ruthless sadist… and having her here just cracked the crazy shell of the damn insane nut."

"Don't worry, Bailey. We are here to fix that," Jane says as she looks to him. "By Spectre authority, I suggest you open the cell and let her out. We'll take care of the rest."

The human man groans in frustration before pressing the command into the first set of doors, heading inside with two other C-Sec officers flanking him on both sides. It leaves the two of them to wait while the officers and Sederis go through the long process of opening the way, recuffing, and leading from Solitary.

The wait is faster than most, the fact that two Spectres have ordered the release helping to speed through the usually necessary paperwork. What's the point of completing and filling forms if a Spectre 'saying so' just nulls and voids it all? With a final look from Bailey, he and Jane take Sederis by the cuffs and begin to walk her from the Academy.

"I knew Aria's indentured servants would come to deliver me from my horrid imprisonment to freedom," the Asari says with an air of superiority before them as the two share a smirk. "Now that I'm out, nothing will stop me from collecting all the little lives of everyone who has ever crossed me… and don't act like I've forgotten about you Shepard and… whoever your little peon is. Now, release me from these wretched things!"

"We will, just one more moment," Jane hands him a piece of paper where she has drawn out his Archangel insignia.

"I am done waiting! Now!"

Ignoring her, they walk her out to a transport and open it, setting it for the lower docks where they _know_ the mercs will have set up the majority of their men, hiding amongst the refugees to avoid C-Sec eyes. He hands nods in 'go ahead' as he shoves the paper into Sederis' hand just as his mate undoes the cuffs, perhaps with a slight shove.

"What the hell is this," the woman demands as she looks at the paper, at the symbol upon it, and whips around with fire in her eyes. "What is the fucking meaning-"

Before she can react, before anyone can, Jane whips up her pistol and fires. A neat little hole bursts between the woman's brows, cutting her crazed words off in an instant as she collapsed. Garrus grabs her corpse by the shirt before it can fall and shoves her into the skycar, seeing the insignia clasped in her hand in her finally death grip. Slamming the door, with the destination programmed into the autopilot, they stay and watch the vehicle lift and speed off, its contents a nice present for the mercs down on the docks.

He can't help the slight grin as it disappears in the distance at what they may think when they find her, find the calling card in her grip without knowledge of _who_ could have done it. Eyes still on the horizon, he feels Jane's hand in his and squeezes, finally turning away and to her when she gently pulls his hand.

"We have two more places to be. You said Chellick sent you a message of where to find Oraka while we waited?" He nods and she adds, "Good, because I've set up a personal meeting with our old mercenary ally-"

"If we can even trust him," he says in concern of the Turian Blue Suns leader, Reguix.

"He hasn't betrayed us at all the opportunities he could… and Aria is actually right. The Reapers winning is bad for everybody, no matter 'where you're sitting'. If that doesn't convince him to work with us, join and serve with us, then I don't know what will." About to ask what would make her ever believe that it's a good idea to ask a mercenary onboard to watch their backs – and ignoring the fact that they already did that multiple times – she interrupts, "I know you don't like the thought, despite this being nothing new for us, I believe you when you say he's one of the top Turian biotics. We need that in a fight. Liara's good, but she's offensive more than defensive and I already can take out husks with my own biotics. Plus, she needs to stay onboard and running that network of hers more than being on the field, so I want to see what this bastard's got." Smirking, she adds, "And I can always go for more Turian eye candy on the Normandy."

Garrus narrows his eyes at the jab to his possessiveness, growling without any real threat and making her chuckle as they arrive at the Presidium Markets and head towards the meeting place with the old General they once helped to get over his unrequited love long ago. When they arrive, they find him and, Garrus will admit, saying his looks better is a _severe_ understatement. Instead of slouched over a glass, trying to drown in the burning liquid, Oraka casually relaxes on the bench, nodding in greeting with a wide smile as they approach.

"General Oraka," Jane greets with a matching grin. "You look good. Congrats on the reinstatement, by the way."

"When I heard Shepard and her pup where coming to this meeting instead of C-Sec, I must admit I'd never expected to actually see the two of you again." He motions to take a seat beside him and they get comfortable. "I must thank you both, by the way. Not just for the strong kick in the hind end to get my act together, but for also ensuring I made it home." He lowers his voice to add, "I might not have found myself anywhere but an alley without the two of you throwing me into a cab."

Garrus chuckles and says, "Don't mention it. And I supposed I should be thanking you as well."

"Oh?"

"It took some time, but I finally understood what you had meant about 'the right duty'. It took," he pauses with a saddened rumble, "a lot of pain before a realized it, but you were right. No matter what," his hand finds his mate's, "I will put everything down for that right duty."

Jane is left quite confused, and he had expected the man not to remember his drunken advice, but he instead hums with a slight nod. "I am glad I could impart some sort of wisdom that didn't involve war strategy or supply chains. But I take it you didn't have Chellick set up this meeting to bring back the past?"

Nodding her head, Jane explains, "We're here to help C-Sec acquire more weapons. We can handle the Blue Suns problem, but he wants better weapons, wants to take you up on your idea."

"Yes, actually." His attitude shifts as he growls, sitting up with a scowl directed towards one of the shops. "There's a black market dealer here on the Citadel, right down. But he won't sell his top-line arms. The damn Salarian bastard is more focused on money than this station's ability to defend itself."

"Seems like all that's everyone is after these days…" Garrus agrees with his wife whole heartedly with a growl. "Don't worry," Jane says as she gets up, Garrus following. "We'll get those weapons."

Heading to the shop where the black arms dealer is running his business in the guise of legitimacy, they sit through some claim of innocence before, with a single sentence, he openly confirms Oraka's suspicion. The man's first words of selfishly wanting them to travel into Reaper infested space for some rare artifacts send Garrus over the threshold of patience and he grabs the man, yanking him over the counter.

"You won't get anything!" He screams as Garrus drags him across the ground, stepping over the guard rail and into the overhanging flowerbed – Jane using the whole 'step aside, Spectre business' as excuse as she follows behind. "My partners won't sell to you if anything happens to me. You'll get nowhere!"

"Maybe not," Garrus growls as he holds the man over the edge, smirking at the eyes widening. "But this will still feel good."

"You've got two choices, Kannik." His wife takes the stand as the 'good cop', crossing her arms. "You either trade with C-Sec _without_ your precious artifacts or you take a dive courtesy of my partner here. Your partners might not sell, but I have a feeling that you would consider living the bigger reward to having the last laugh."

"Please." Kannik grips at the hand holding him up from a fall down through the levels of the Presidium markets. "Okay, okay… I'll sell my top weapons to C-Sec." Garrus lets his talons 'rip' through some of the fabric, the soft sound almost echoing off the expanse of the Citadel arm, and the man screams, messing himself. "Come on! What more do you want!"

"To warn you." He tosses the Salarian into a heap in the flowers. "If we hear that C-Sec isn't getting the best, then you'll _wish_ I had dropped you."

The man holds up his hands and nods rapidly. "Yes, okay. Weapons are yours. I promise. Just… don't kill me."

As they head back to Oraka, he can't ignore that smirk of amusement on his wife's face that he hides with a chuckle every time he looks at her. Stopping her halfway back to alert the General of his battle won, he takes her hand and makes her turn to him. She doesn't speak, merely lifts up on her toes to kiss him before she says, "Come on. The sooner we get this and all the other shit out the way, the sooner I can finally have you alone and under and in me."

Her words leave him stunned, surprised she would so blatantly say that aloud with so many around. Sure, he's used to it since Cerberus, but perhaps it's the fact that they are working with someone from their past – a past in which they had agreed on a strict 'professional only' rule – that makes it so shocking in contrast. He nearly falls behind before snapping out of his shock and following, making it up the steps just as she's telling Oraka of the news.

"I am sure Executor Chellick would be happy to hear once the information reaches him. And quite the show, pup." The General stands and offers a hand to each, firmly shaking as he says, "It won't bring Palaven back, but it can help C-Sec have a fighting chance. Thank you both."

"It was nothing, General." Seeing the man standing straight for a salute, Garrus mirrors. He may not be a good Turian, but he's honorable enough to offer the courtesy to those he once looked up to now that he has found himself, crazy as it is, above them.

When they drop the silent parting that, for all intents, means much the same as Chellick's own words in leaving, but more utilitarian and often used more in the military where the Spirits have no place – which is all the same to him since he has long since left behind belief in Spirits of any kind – Jane speaks. "We'll see you on the other side, General."

"I will hold you to that."

Leaving the man to tend to his correspondence with Chellick, they head to the transit, their day still not done. He sighs as they climb in and she must hear him because, in a moment, her hand is taking his. "We just need to speak with Arcanus Reguix, maybe let Aria think she has his Terminus Blue Suns - if we're lucky – and see if he'd join us on the Normandy, fight with us. After that, we're heading to Huerta to see your folks, maybe check in on Thane since he asked, and see if we can find a chance to let Sol see the kids before we have to leave."


	15. Chapter 15

-Jane-

Following the merc leader's directions to their, finally in person, meeting point, the two Spectres find themselves outside of a high class bar, Parallaxis. Jane, impressed, whistles loud, making Turians around them wince – the fact that Garrus has gotten so used to it not to saying something to his self-control at supposed piercing noises.

"Damn, this place is nice," she says as her husband's eyes search the lit letters like it holds some deep answer to some mystery. "Hey, you good?"

Blinking back to realty, he looks to her and nods. "Yeah, just remembering."

"Remembering?" A red brow lifts in question, but he shakes it off, leading the way in.

The bar is larger within that it looks from outside, nicer too with its design. Instead of a near claustrophobic feeling she tends to get from the clubs they find themselves in, there is a soft piano being played from a slight raised platform in the far corner before the massive holographic 'windows'. The bar itself is a single, massive room with high ceilings and a circular bar in the center. Tables and small couches with the few patrons sit without lowered alcoves, the occupants talking softly as they enjoy the soft piano.

A place like this could make a girl forget that there's a fucking war happening on hers and her mate's homeworlds.

"Jane." When she looks up to Garrus, he merely motions his chin across the way, to a small seating area where the man they've come for sits, a waiter currently tending to him.

"Time to cash in, Garrus. Let me do the talking, yeah?"

"I have your six, no matter what. Just… try not to get us on the bad side of the Blue Suns? It took me a rocket to the face to finally get _off_ that hit list." She simply shrugs in nonchalance as she takes the lead.

Starting for the merc, she puts together her argument for getting the bastard onto her ship. If what Liara and Garrus' information on him is correct, then she could definitely use a more defensive biotic watching her back in battle. Especially with how she, admittedly, has learned to sacrifice her own barriers for more stopping power.

"Commander," the man greets with a rumbling tone and offer to sit on the couch across from him. "I must ask, is it Commander Shepard or, more accurately, Commander Vakarian?"

"Shepard," she answers as they, a bit awkwardly thanks to Garrus' armor, sit on the too small couch. "Two Vakarians on one ship can get confusing."

"Indeed." He pauses as the waiter returns with three glasses of something strong smelling and slightly red in color. "Please, feel free to try. I have heard that _Nulli secundus_ is quite uncommon on the Citadel." Something in the way his vocals hum at the words makes her frown in confusion and pay attention to the vocal response of her own mate, but she can't remark on it when the man changes the subject to the task at hand. "Be that as it may, I am curious as to what I owe this unexpected pleasure."

Chuckling, she looks at the liquor, handing it to Garrus to hold. "Actually, I think it's less a pleasure when you're buying the drinks. But I _am_ here for more than draining your chits. I'm cashing those favors you owe me, Arcanus."

He hums just a barely audible sound as he takes a sip of his drink, speaking once he has savored the taste. "The Reapers have invaded the galaxy and I assume you are here to request the might of the Blue Suns to assist in your war effort," he offers, his eyes never leaving hers.

Jane stares right back, not flinching from the cold stare of gold eyes as she leans forward on her elbow. "That's one favor, but I _do_ believe you owe me two. And this next one is a good one. I want you to join me on the Normandy."

Finally, _finally_ , he reacts, though it isn't much, as he lifts a brow plate and flicks a mandible once to a small chime of the gold ring speared through it. "That is quite a request."

"Damn right it is, but I figure you won't say no."

"And why is that?"

"Because, let me quote an old friend, you aren't fucking daft." _That one's for you, Zaeed, wherever hellhole you're in, you old bastard._ "The Reapers are _all_ our problems. I give it less than a few weeks before they'll be breathing all over the Citadel's ass and then you won't have a choice, so let me be frank. I doubt you want this galaxy to end, there just wouldn't be innocents to muscle money out of or C-Sec agents to give the run around to," Garrus snorts at that one, most likely remembering his old days having to fight the red tape between himself and the Citadel's Blue Suns. "So what better to way to ensure you can still raise hell than to raise it with the only ones in the galaxy that manage to find trouble doing something as simple as taking a piss?"

Arcanus strokes a knuckle over his chin in thought before laying it back on his arm rest. "Despite argument to the contrary over some of your statement, you are correct. I do believe I am hearing you correctly when you are asking I put myself under your command in the battle against the Reapers?"

"If that isn't irony, I don't know what is," her mate says with a slight shake of his head, taking a sip from his drink.

"I must agree with Archangel-"

"Garrus."

"Garrus," Arcanus corrects in a tone that barely speaks of misstep, continuing without looking from her stern look of determination. She will leave this with either this man on her team or, less preferably, an enemy of the Blue Suns, once again. "While I will admit it will behoove me to ensure that the Reapers are defeated, you definitely do not 'pull your punches' on requests of repayment," he deadpans.

Her lips twitch in a smirk as she says, "I tend to go straight for the balls in any battle, physical or not."

"Agreed," he responds with a bare flick of his mandible and rumble of amusement. "Yet, even with all arguments, it is due to your actions that I am in the position to now command the entirety of the Blue Sons that I am tempted to acquiesce. However, I must make it known that I would require there to be two conditions met."

Sighing, Jane takes the glass back from her husband and downs it all, making them both look at her stunned. Arcanus even grunts with his vocals in disbelief as Garrus sighs, shaking his head. She doesn't care, though. After all, _he_ bought the drinks for _her_ to drink as she sees fit.

She sets the empty glass on the table as she leans back in the chair. "Let's hear it then, Reguix."

Arcanus collects himself with barely a flick of his mandibles at shaking it off, the movement only known because she can hear the slightest jingle of his piercings in this near silent bar, and says, "I first require long range communications equipment. There is no debate on this for, if I am to join you, I must have a means to remain in contact with the Suns."

Jane shrugs, "Sure, why the hell not? Just book the room and have at her." With a cross of her arms, she leans into the cushions and raises a brow. "And what's the second condition?"

It takes another long pause of Arcanus taking a sip and long moment to savor the liquid, humming in consideration of his words. Just as she's about to tell him to hurry up before the Reapers head back into dark space, he speaks, eyes looking out at the artificial night sky in the 'windows'.

"There are only a few things that even my position and resources cannot grant me access to, which is unfortunate because the one thing I have desired for quite some time is not accessible to me without attracting the unwanted attention of the Council."

"So Spectre shit," she fills in without hesitation. "What the fuck do you want with Spectre files?"

"Not Spectre files, Commander. In fact, the matter of which I am speaking of can, in fact, be obtained without access." Golden eyes turn to her, locking in on her emerald ones. "The files I am interested in have been written by you."

Eyes narrowed, she snorts dismissively. "Yeah, like the only thing you want is my _glorious_ ," she wiggles her fingers exaggeratedly in the air, " _tales_ of Reapers and indoctrinated Spectres."

Rumbling, the man sets the glass down on the side table beside his chair, a bare hint of a frown finally showing on his near expressionless face. "Saren was… is a great friend of mine. If it were possible, I would have been proud to call him a brother." She scoffs as Garrus growls, but the man continues. "Our paths aligned many years ago and I had originally learned of the Reapers through him, long before Sovereign's attack upon the Citadel. It might surprise you, but you are not the first to try and warn the Council of the Reapers, Saren's warnings fell upon deaf ears, as well."

"Doesn't change the fact that he was batshit crazy."

Her argument is ignored as the frown deepens on the man's face. "Some time after his attempt for an audience, I had lost contact with him. It was after that that I had learned of the attack on Eden Prime." He growls and looks up to her, mandibles tight in anger as she feels the slight static from his biotics on his plates. "I am not blind to the effects of Indoctrination. Saren may not have been amicable to many, called ill-tempered by most, but those machines warped his mind. If am I to join you, you will tell me how they changed him. If we face a Reaper," his hands clench into sparking fists as he snarls, "I _deserve_ to feed my fury with their destruction."

She knows enough about raging Turians to do anything but sit back and wait it out. Besides that, she still doesn't know if she likes to be reminded of those times she felt legitimately sorry for the poor asshole because he was so fucked in the head he wasn't even a man anymore. The less she has to think about that, the better as far as she's concerned – _easier to look at his death with any sense of victory in battle that way_. Plus, she's damn sure Garrus doesn't share her views, so it's best they move past something that could cause a fight between the two Turians.

A long exhale and slight twinkle brings her attention back as Arcanus calms with a slow flare of his mandibles before regaining some sense of control, even though his vocals still buzz in rage. "I understand you hold no goodwill towards Saren, but I am asking you this, pleading if I must. If you give me an honest, detailed recounting of your interactions with him, I will join you." She catches his gaze again. "Do we have an accord?"

"Understanding that I won't mince feelings about him, then yes. I will even tell you what I didn't put in my reports if it will get you on the Normandy." She stands and offers a hand. "Welcome aboard, Arcanus Reguix."

Humming in thought, he stands in a moment and takes her hand, giving it a firm squeeze and shake. "I will see myself to your ship as soon as I have collected adequate provisions."

"Dock D-24. We leave in fourteen hours, be aboard in twelve."

At his nod and shared vocal agreement with Garrus, probably about playing nice if she knows her husband, she leads the way out. They still have at least one more destination for today before they can return to the temporary bit of home they've made in their hotel room and she'd much rather get it done and over with sooner rather than later. With hopes, she can get to enjoy that tub one more time before having to jump back into the life of 'Commander Shepard, apparent only one fighting the damn war'.

Huerta is packed with refugees looking for somewhere to go, hoping the hospital wouldn't be able to turn them away, and soldiers with injuries too severe to be treated on their own people's medical ships, leading them to being transferred to a better equipped facility. The former is out of luck, unfortunately, and continuously turned away, back to the already over-capacity docks, and the latter is in a state that, to Jane, doesn't seem much better.

There are just too many sick and wounded to be cared for all at once, leading to doctors having to pick and choose who is treated when. She hates it, hates the politics, even here, that put one individual above the other despite the state of injury. _Two people come in with the exact same injury and the higher ranking, more important figure, is treated first._

It makes her wonder what will happen once this war is over, _if_ she can manage a fucking miracle for the third time in a row. Will the only ones left be those who wouldn't know the right side of a gun even when staring down a barrel? Will there be only worthless politicians to rebuild because all the true men and women that held the galaxy's head on its shoulders have fallen to give the ungrateful bastards their lives?

Should that be the case, she doesn't know if she wants to live in such a galaxy. Like Garrus said to her, this galaxy will need people who know how to 'hold a hammer' when this is over, not those who think they can talk the rubble clear.

"I'm afraid you misunderstand," a voice Jane hasn't heard – a voice belonging to a man whose condition she, admittedly, never followed up on either before or during her imprisonment on Earth – drifts from the visitor's center. "I'm here for nothing more than to offer a young girl her doll back. You see, she left it in the refugee camps and I fear she may be afraid in this large hospital without it."

"Margo?" Jane approaches with a frown, seeing the man in a wheelchair. "What… Shit, I never knew…"

His chair turns, but even with whatever injury he had on the Collector Base, his smile has not faded. Hers does, or it never appears, as she looks over him, feeling guilty for not following up on his condition like a good commanding officer, for getting distracted with her own personal bullshit to care about the people who became her good friends. "Hey, Shepard," he calls with a wave, turning to the desk attendant. "Can you at least give this to the little girl that was brought in for pneumonia from the refugee camp? Her name is Emily. I'm afraid I don't have her last name, however I can describe her for you?"

The nurse shakes the need for description off and takes the doll. "We'll take care of it for you. Are you her family or caretaker?"

"Oh, no. She is simply a young friend I had met from my time tending to the memorial for those lost." Smiling in thanks to her, he steers the chair towards them and offers his hand to both. "It is so good to see you both. I heard the news, so I took it upon myself to organize a memorial for those here that have either lost or are looking for loved ones. Anything to help, you know?"

She nods, still struggling under the drastic change, and doesn't stop herself from asking, "McKnight, what happened? I mean, I know you got hurt, but I had no idea-"

Chuckling, he raises his hands. "Hey, it's cool, Shepard. I had no idea that you still had so much on your plate even _after_ the Base, but now I feel sort of glad I wasn't awake for it!" He must see there looks because he takes her hand and pats it amicably. "I was never a soldier, remember? I am partially to blame for the shot I took in the back because I was wide open, got distracted." Smiling, he shrugs. "But I was able to watch Miri's back, so I feel like I did better than if I'd just left her to fend for herself."

"That doesn't change the fact that we didn't even check up on you." _Damn, shot in the back… no coming back from that unless you got a shit load of credits and a damn good doctor to not fuck everything up with cybernetics._

"It's alright. I got to see you guys now and know that you're both okay… or as okay as you two can be. And I saw that you were pregnant on the news, so congrats," he lowers his voice and holds a hand to his hide his lips from prying eyes. "To _both_ of you. Maybe one day I can meet him or her."

"We'd love for you to meet them, Knight," Garrus says with a low rumble, the conversation taking a quieter tone so as not to have outside listeners. "Though, it's more babbling on their part." Jane smiles as Margo chuckles and nods in agreement.

Suddenly, the chuckling stops as realization hits and he questions, "Wait… you said them? As in he or she or as in _them_ them?"

Her husband hums in confusion, brow plates lowering. "Is this another tomato tomato conversation?"

"A what?"

Figuring she better step in, Jane clears her throat. "Skipping the conversation about Garrus' translator not picking up different forms of pronunciations, he means that we have more than one child. Twins."

"Oh wow. Wow… wow." They chuckle as the man's loss of words as he shakes his head. "Wow."

"So you've said," Jane remarks with a smirk. "It's been good seeing you, Princess." She may never drop the name, even though the man may never walk again, let alone ever dawn armor that looks like a modern form of an old knight's armor. "You have my and Garrus' extranet addresses, right?"

"As long as it hasn't been changed," he answers with a chuckle, offering a hand.

When she takes it, she's completely off guard for his next move to pull her down into a hug, making the move clumsier than she'd admit. Garrus is next for the same treatment, his hug a bit more awkward due to his armor and size, but it doesn't seem to bother their friend and former squadmate, Margo patting a hand on the solid metal back plate before releasing.

"It was great to see you again. I hope Miri has at least had a chance to contact you? I know she's had to be secretive about her movements lately, but I have hoped she could at least have a chance to connect."

"I spoke with her, but only briefly." She thinks about whether it'd be in bad taste to ask her next thought, but figures if she's never held her tongue before, why start today when it could offer some kind of help. "Speaking of Miranda, have you considered cybernetics to fix your injury?"

Turning his wheelchair to face the expanse of windows, he goes silent in thought. "Actually, she offered, but I don't think it's right for me to want something so small at a time like this. I can still help people, I _am_ helping people, by giving them hope, a place to reconnect with those they may have been separated from." He turns he warm smile to her. "I don't need the use of my legs for that."

They watch him as he leaves to tend to his memorial wall. Growing short on time for visiting hours here at the hospital, she lets Garrus tend to his family, to help them move Solana from her room here in Huerta to a small rent-by-the-cycle apartment that she and their father will share. It's not the best of accommodations, one of them having to sleep on the couch while the other has the bed, if what Garrus has told her is true, but his father is persistent, stubborn like his son.

She has to commend him for being entirely _unlike_ some others she sees her on the station. Sure, they don't really have the credits for the big hotel rooms or permanent apartments, but even with Garrus and Jane's offer to help, Titus Vakarian has refused. He sees the fact that they would spent useful credits just for comfort a waste and insists on being given enough to ensure his daughter's health.

Hearing his argument, no matter how much it frustrates Garrus, Jane actually has to agree once taking a step back. What credits they would offer for luxury can better be used for the war effort, for supplying the Normandy with everything it needs. At least, she decides, he allowed them to purchase the stay at the one room place they will be staying because she knows her husband would be damned before he just let his family go to the camps in Sol's condition.

As Garrus tends to his business, she heads up the floors to see to a matter of her own, seeing an old friend who seemed legitimately worried after hearing about the Reapers' arrival, Thane Krios. From what she had heard, his condition worsened after the exertion he put on his body when the large team held their position while Garrus took the trio deeper, and his message spoke of having to remain under constant watch, thus his admittance into Huerta.

Giving a knock of warning at her entrance, she steps in to find that Thane has guests. Two more Drell, to be exact, but, as they turn, she realizes that they aren't strangers listening to the older man speak as she initially thought, but people she knows.

She smiles as she addresses them both, "Kolyat, good to see you." Her grin widens at the young addition. "And Poe! What the hell are you doing here?"

Red eyes close as she nods in greeting before closing the distance and hugging her as she did on Illium, and again leaving Liara to her new position as Shadow Broker. "I'm happy to see you again, Shepard. It has been a long time and with my work for Liara, I was afraid I wouldn't get a chance to see you for an even longer time."

"Damn right," Jane agrees with a chuckle, shaking Kolyat's hand in greeting before turning to Thane. "I didn't know you'd have guests, I guess it's a good thing I didn't come sooner. You three look like you're in the middle of something."

"On the contrary, Siha." The man motions to take a seat beside the other two as he stands before the window to his room. "Young Poe was interested in the hearing tells of Kahje, of our people. With she and Kolyat being so close in age, I thought it would benefit them both to learn of things I had not yet told him together."

Jane doesn't take the seat, can't with the thought of yet another person she knew as a fighter being left to nothing more than weakness. Granted, Thane doesn't _look_ weak, but the wheeze to his voice and the times he needs to stop and cough, even in the midst of his flashbacks, speaks plenty to his condition.

It's near torture to sit there and listen, her eyes not looking at him and instead out at the passing skycars, but that only seems to make it worse, make it harder not to let her mind think of him as weak. Without watching him, all she has is his voice and, for some reason, it just makes her feel like she's losing a fight. It doesn't matter than Thane had Kepral's long before they even met and she'll admit she's probably projecting her own problems onto the man, but she can't shake the guilt that, in his voice, she hears the failing health of the entire galaxy as the Reapers abolish everything in their path while she sits around and, by the feel of it, does nothing.


	16. Chapter 16

-Garrus-

_"Garrus, do you have a moment?"_

_He stops in the small hallway outside his family's cramped apartment and turns, his mandible twitching in anticipation of a fight bound to happen between himself and his father. The two have, at best of times, a sort of professional relationship now that they had argued over the legitimacy of Damocles and Cassia._

_"No," Garrus answers, gripping the pack of ice in his hand a bit tighter. "I really don't. I had to leave Sol alone with the babies to get her some ice for her leg and I don't like leaving her having to take care of two babies. She_ _**is** _ _recovering from a surgery, after all, or did you forget that in attempts to stay away from me?"_

_Titus flinches at the barely concealed vocals and frowns. "I have read through the information from the doctor countless times… and I wanted to say I was wrong." Confused, Garrus rumbles in question, shoulders relaxing from the fight he was expecting. "My biggest fault is not using the same objectivity in my personal life that I have in my work," he ducks his head with a sad trill, "and it has cost me my son."_

_Garrus doesn't have an answer to that, not really. It's been so long since he looked at the man who gave him life as the great father he had as a young child and he doesn't know if they'd ever go back, but he can't lie to himself and say he doesn't want his children to never know their grandfather. He doesn't know what, in turn, becomes of the shared men's relationship, but it has to be better than what it is now._

_"For what it's worth, I am sorry, Garrus. I spent too long trying to turn you into another me that I didn't realize you needed guidance, not control." His father looks into his eyes, keening softly in loss. "I just hope you will let me have a chance to be more than an acquaintance in your life again."_

_"Dad," he says, looking over the man's face, seeing the pain and regret that mars his father's face. "You just have to be there for me, for my family."_

_Trilling in surprise, his father's eyes widen at the simple honesty when he expected so much more. Garrus smiles warmly and nods in reassurance, motioning the door with a sly shift of his mandibles. "Now, I say you come see your grandchildren before this ice melts and I have to walk all the way back for more."_

_Titus' mandibles flick nervously, confused at a resolution so unlike the usual arguing the two have always had before, as Garrus leads, opening the door and stepping in. Sol smiles, then grins with a chirping purr at the sight of_ _**two** _ _Turians stepping in, and exclaims, "You really came!"_

_Even his father's chuckle is a bit uncomfortable, probably still waiting for a fight to erupt, but Garrus simply rumbles in encouragement before going to the small bed and laying the icepack on his sister's leg. Once she's set, he moves to the pillow on her opposite side, and out of his father's sight, and gently picks up his daughter._

_"Dad, this is Cassia, my daughter." He purrs and turns to the older man, watching his father's mandibles slacken, then flutter as he approaches slowly, as if in caution. "Don't worry, she doesn't bite like her brother," he jokes with a smile and chuckle._

_"Can… I hold her?" His voice is a near whisper and Garrus nods, gently offering the little baby just as she starts to wake, chirping. "She's beautiful, Garrus," he says with a loving rumble, thick with emotion not entirely positive and Garrus rumbles in comfort._

_He knows the sound, knows his father is thinking, with regret, of how his mate could not have the chance to see her grandchildren. He never had the chance to tell her she was right about their heartbeats, will never be able to tell her that, despite all the times he had listened to that recording during those months alone, he was never able to hear what she could. She had a gift with children and it hurts that she wasn't around to see Garrus' proudest achievement, to have children with the love of his life._

_"Hey," Solana's soft voice, a bit sad at understanding where the conversation led, draws them out of their individual thoughts. "What about little Damocles?" She smiles softly and gently picks up the warbling baby, handing him to his father. "I think he's feeling left out."_

_He chuckles as he holds him close. "Right, because we can't have him going without attention, now can we?" Caressing his son's barely there plates that will become his fringe, Garrus carries the baby to his dad, holding him. "My son, Damocles."_

_His father smiles and runs a single finger along the little boy's mandible, chuckling at the soft growl as he curls up in the arms holding him. "He looks like you, Garrus. Just like you did as an infant," he says as he looks up to his own son, now talker and broader than he ever was, and Garrus purrs at the warmth in Titus' eyes._

Garrus rumbles with a smile as he thinks back to the short, too short, time he had with his sister and father. He almost wishes Jane could be there to finally meet the man he's happy to call his father, but he knows that their time was so short, that they didn't have the opportunity to be able to get done everything that was needed without separating. It was due to the war that they must rush to get everything done while they can, snatching some personal time when they can manage, but it doesn't change the wistful thinking.

With the babies back aboard and the Normandy on its way to their next destination, Eden Prime after a lead Liara brought them, he is heading to the MedBay to see how Mordin's exam on his mate is going. He nods in greeting to Cortez and Jimmy on their way to the Mess and stops to advise the Primarch on a matter he needs a second opinion on concerning a defensive force's deployment. He'd have preferred not to have to return so soon to the War, to not be dragged back into the hell of watching the death toll rise, but he does his duty and helps make a hard decision with pain in both of their eyes.

Trying to shake off the heaviness of his words of 'counsel', he doesn't see the _very_ angry Krogan until it's too late. Wrex throws him against the wall, ignoring Jane's shouted demands to back down as she storms after him, ready to fight a Krogan three times her size with her bare fists if she has to. "Dammit, Turian. I knew you couldn't keep it in your fucking plates! I ought to rip it off!"

He growls back at the man, preparing to fight a Krogan in a way he hasn't done since Omega with Garm. "I don't know what you're talking about, but try it and find out what happened to the last Krogan that tried to take me one-on-one." Wrex's eyes narrow and he knows that, despite really not wanting to have to fight a friend in the middle of a war like this one, their threats are about to be tested when a stern shout rings through the room, silencing them all.

"Enough!" barks Eve, standing from her seat curled up on her bed. Despite her condition, she moves with purpose as she closes the distance and shoves Wrex away. "Fighting will do nothing, Wrex."

"This humpless, dual balled Kirok may have ruined our people's chance at curing the Genophage!"

"What did I even do-"

"You are wrong, Wrex," Eve moves between Krogan and Turian males before looking to Mordin who, up until now, has been more worried about the two women than the next Krogan Rebellion about to happen. "Mordin, tell them what you were trying to say."

"Alterations evident in samples from before incident. Turian DNA contamination not possible. Alteration due to host."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Wait," Jane says as she looks to the Salarian. "You mean you found that change in what you took before we had the Shore Leave? _Before_ the tub sex?" He nods. "So _I'm_ what made the antigens mutate?"

"I knew this would happen." Wrex starts to pace, turning on Garrus' mate. "Dammit, Shepard, I should have never trusted this plan!"

Garrus steps up in his wife's defense. "So you'd rather have waited it out until Mordin could have enough from Eve alone? This war won't last that long, Wrex. Or did you just want to drain Eve if it cost her life?"

"Don't you _dare-_ "

"He's right, Wrex." Eve looks back to Garrus and his wife before her own kind, her stance still between them like a line to be crossed at one's own peril. "How can you be angry when it has cost them more than ourselves? We may suffer from the Genophage or whatever modification this new antigen gives, but they have _chosen_ possible loss of fertility to help all of our people. Would you be so hateful towards ones you claimed as 'friends'?"

"We aren't _cured_ with this!"

"Doctor, what does this new change do? What will happen to our people?"

"Did simulations, tests on samples. Alteration will affect quantity of ova released in each fertile cycle. Lengthen gestation period. Females will produce less ova and embryo will develop at slower pace. Much like human reproduction."

Wrex growls and his fingers pop as he flexes his fists. "We may not be sterile, but you cut our ability to have children. This is no cure, it's another damn modification."

Eve whips her head to him so fast that the chains of her hood twinkle in the air. "No. It _is_ a cure, for our fertility _and_ our people. Our people once grew in numbers faster than our culture could keep up. Look at what we did to our own home before anyone ever uplifted us. This is a cure. Now we can no longer see children born as a sign of our conquest over the Genophage, but as _ours_ , as individuals that can become more than warriors or mercenaries."

Wrex is quiet after that, thinking for a long time over her words before he walks to Solus, looking the man in the eyes. "No more stillborn? No more deaths?"

Mordin smiles and answers, surprisingly simple for his usual tendency to ramble. "No longer suffer fetal mortality caused by Genophage induced modifications to Krogan genetic structure."

Sighing, the Krogan drops his head and shoulders in either defeat or acceptance, both better than the rage at least. "Then keep working on the cure. It's better than the Genophage."

Garrus is about to tell Wrex just what he thinks about his ungrateful, idiotic stance on this, but he's stopped from letting a single word fall from his mouth at his wife's pleading look to let it go. Sighing himself, he nods and looks to Eve, seeing her sympathetic look under her hood. At least one of them realizes that, even if the cure isn't going to bring the Krogan back to their 'former glory', neither of them are truly coming out of this situation completely the same as before.

He follows his wife out to the Mess where she exhales heavily before sitting down at one of the tables. She lays her head in her hands, closing her eyes as she rubs her temples. "I guess you can tell that I told them about us fucking in the tub that one time."

"It was either that or I'd need to worry about Wrex having surveillance in our hotel room." He chuckles at her smile as he bumps her foot under the table. "Or, hell, maybe Wrex was watching. I bet we gave him quite the show, too."

That actually makes her chuckle and crack open an eye. "You're an idiot."

"I'm your idiot."

"Can I trade you in for a better model?" He gasps in mock hurt, twitching his mandibles, and she snorts, patting his hand. "I guess I can put up with you. After all, your warranty ran out when you fucked that mug of yours up."

"And here I thought you loved my scars," he deadpans as she smirks teasingly and leans over, kissing his scarred cheek. "I guess I'll have to look for a nice Krogan girl."

She snorts and groans, probably having a headache. "Damn, this stupid cure shit gives me a migraine. And not just what happened." He frowns and replaces her hands with his own, rubbing gently with a purr. "Thanks," she says with a weak smile. "I swear, it's like I'm pregnant again."

"Again?"

"Yeah, apparently my cloning baby machine thinks it's pregnant whenever it's 'in use', even if it's only cloning some weird Krogan antigen and not even a real, living being."

"You telling me you'd want a Krogan baby too? You wound me," he rumbles in effort to cheer her up, taking joy in her huff of a chuckle.

"Ass." He feels her lean into his hands, so it must be helping. Not that he minds it if he needs to sit here the entire time they travel for Eden Prime in order to help her feel better because, to him, it's no different from the times he rubs away her biotic migraines after a particularly hard, tiring fight. "Mordin says the headaches are hormones piled onto my biotics, like two fucking assholes jumping on my brain."

"Good to see your pain has not affected your sense of professionalism, Commander," their newest addition to the Normandy says as he enters the Mess, headed for the fridge to remove a drink of something that he must have brought aboard or made because Garrus has never seen it before.

"Oh, hah," she deadpans. "This _is_ me being professional, Arcanus. You ever get one of those biotic migraines?"

"It would be a lie if any biotic has claimed to never have had one at least once in their lifetime. I believe it is only the Asari who do not suffer them unless after melding incorrectly." He comes to the table, rumbling in consideration as he takes in the situation. "Unless you were recently in combat with a Reaper, I do not see how you could be in the pain you are experiencing. From what I have seen of your recorded combat, you do not usually overexert yourself."

"Do we even want to know how you've seen her fight?"

"Probably not," he says with little inflection.

Snorting, Jane looks up to him. "Yeah, well double that migraine pain _without_ any kicking ass to make you feel better. I made the mistake of assisting the mad scientist in the MedBay and it's kicking my ass."

"Ah, yes. Professor Mordin Solus. I can say I was quite surprised to see him present on the Normandy, though his association with you is something I had known about. His presence here can only point to the Normandy currently being involved in a scientific breakthrough of some kind."

Garrus chuckles and nods, saying, "We have a way of doing the impossible-"

"Stick around long enough and you'll see shit you haven't seen before in all your years with the Suns," Jane adds as he lets her go to smirk up at the man.

"I must admit that I look forward to finding out if the rumors of trouble seeming to find you is true," Reguix admits with a rumble of amusement as he holds out the glass to Jane.

"What the fuck is that?" She lifts a brow and subtly leans away from it.

"You said it yourself, even the most experienced biotics find themselves in a situation where they have pushed their bodies beyond the recommended limits. The mass produced nutritional aids are lacking, so I have come to make my own." He sets the glass down and clasps his hands at the crook of his back. "Your migraines will cease after you drink this."

"You're quite confident."

"I have reason to be," he simply says with a slight smirk as he leaves them.

"Smartasses… I'm surrounded my smartass little shits," she says under her breath as she takes the glass to her nose before sipping, making Garrus laugh.

* * *

 

Three years, three long, hard years that changed their very lives, and they were back to where it all began, Eden Prime.

True, only one of them actually had feet on the ground when Saren had attacked alongside the Geth and started their involvement in this entire Reaper war, but even apart, they were feeling the ripples of Saren's actions across the Galaxy. For Liara, she soon found herself trapped within her own archeological dig site in some Prothean defense bubble, and he was trying to legitimately find evidence while bound by all the red tape the Citadel seemed to have on hand.

Now they are here, together, and, though the odds could be better for the people of Eden Prime, there is an odd sense of going back to the beginning. Of course, he knows that's not possible, that neither he nor Liara were beside Jane when she was forced to see the Beacon's warnings and that jumping back in time is only the plot of vids – his scars still across his face are proof of being in the present – but the sentiment is all the same.

He was with her through nearly all of it and now it's almost as if he has a chance to be with her at the beginning, with her while they rediscover a Prothean artifact – and, this time, _no one_ is setting off the Prothean tech and result in Jane throwing herself in the way. If anyone has to get the nightmares and currently glowing green eyes and visions, he'd rather it be him.

Another _big_ difference between then and now was the _live Prothean_ they were currently trying to keep out of Cerberus hands.

Quite a find considering the knowledge about the missing piece to the Crucible this Prothean might have, he'd admit, but he hasn't been that naïve and easily convinced of the mercy of the galaxy in a very, _very_ long time. With their luck, this Prothean may try to kill them all the second it is released, or not know a damn thing about either communicating with them or explaining the weapon passed from their cycle.

It all doesn't really matter much in the moment, though. Right now, they were currently cornered into a lab that held the last piece of information they needed to open the pod, holding back the waves of Cerberus' troops while also trying to return to the pod in hopes they could get there before Cerberus, once again, tried forcing it open.

"Garrus, watch my back. We got dogs coming," his wife says with a pat to his armor as she switches her submachine gun for her favorite shotgun.

He doesn't know exactly what a 'dog' is, but he recognizes that she means the strange, Cerberus modified creatures that look similar to Varren. If they looked like that before the modifications, he doesn't know, but, right now, they are snarling, drooling beasts that have a way of breaking through their line worse than a charging Krogan – and their bite _hurts_ like hell as he found out at Grissom.

Liara seems less focused, probably due to her seeming life-long dream coming true in a matter of moments, but she at least keeps her head down in between the Singularities being thrown across the field. Garrus won't fault her this time, not when their position doesn't really allow her to do much else. They are practically pinned and, with him as the only long range and Jane out in the field thanks to her stronger biotic barriers, not that _that's_ why she's acting like her normal, irrationally danger self, Liara is blindly wasting heat sinks if she tries to do anything but throw out her biotics.

Seeing his wife kick one of the 'dog' beasts with her heavy boot, and taking pride in the loud yelp it releases at her force, he sights a trooper taking aim at her and kills him in rain of shattered helmet, skull, and wet pulp that was once his head. "That's one for me, Jane. And yours counts as a half."

His mate snorts on the comm. "Then, next time, I'll let the bastards circle around and bite you in the ass."

"You do know _I'm_ over here too, right?"

"They'd be too busy chewing on the walking bone to notice you, Liara." She chuckles at Liara's worry as he watches her charges into an engineer setting up turret, where she then smashes his face into the metal, destroying both man and machine with the other. "All clear. Move forward on my six."

They double time back towards the pod, knowing it'll be easier for them to fight in a more open space than a tiny lab doorway. Their group manages to make it all the way back to the main area of the facility, the pod on its platform just within sight, before his visor picks up a flicker of light.

"Snipers!" He grabs Jane and Liara, throwing them behind cover just as a shot whips past where they were. "Stay down," he growls in warning to the two as he moves for a better position.

From what his visor picked up, they are above him, most likely on one of the prefabs across the opposite end of the dig site's lift. With Widow in hand and best possible perch chosen, he gets into position and looks through the scope while remaining perfectly still.

He ignores the fidgeting from his mate behind her cover, the woman never being known for patience in a hostile environment, and focuses on his scope and the constant scanning of his visor, just waiting for the flicker of light. Even the shuttle dropping off a squad of fresh soldiers does not distract him, does not affect the pace of his breaths as he waits the snipers out. He spent _days_ alone against the mercs before Jane showed up to save his life, in more ways than one, so these few moments are nothing.

The fact that these Cerberus snipers are using sighting lasers, even infrared, makes him smirk as it reveals their location the second they aim out of their cover. He lines up a shot at their location, waiting for the sniper, female by the height and shape, to snap up and try to fire upon his mate charging through the field before dropping down.

It's then that he fires, when they _think_ they are protected behind the thin metal of the half wall along the room of the prefab. One of the modifications he added to his Widow over the years was the capability to produce the power behind each round to penetrate through barriers up to a certain depth. It was one of his favorite mods on Omega and, even now, his weapon still shows its ability to adjust to the situation no matter what it may be, much like the woman who gave it to him in the first place three years ago.

His kill is confirmed when there is now only one sniper, and moving from its previous location as they realize they're under fire of their own, and he takes a steadying breath to lead her with his scope. Seeing a divide in cover, and knowing the sniper will have only two options, stay or try to roll into cover, he takes the second option and fires a split second before she will cross that open space.

His assumption proves right when he watches the sniper's chest burst into a flame of gore and confirms over the comm, "Scratch two!"

"Congrats, Garrus," Jane deadpans. "Now how about you _assist_ in dropping this Atlas?"

"This is why you should carry around a sniper rifle of your own," he says as he sights down the scope into the mech's cockpit, waiting for the Atlas to turn towards him just a fraction for a better shot.

She snorts and he sees a wave of biotics pinpoint her location for him. "I'd rock a fucking sniper rifle. I just don't want to make you feel bad."

He can't help the soft chuckle as his finger adds pressure to the trigger at the right moment, shattering the Atlas' cockpit open. The pilot slumps in the seat as Garrus moves on the next target, firing on an engineer trying to deploy a turret.

"Shepard," Liara sends her shockwave into a biotic explosion that throws the Cerberus soldiers in its pull flying off the side of the ledge. "I think that's the last of them. We should get the life pod open."

"Confirmed," he says into the comm. "No hostiles."

"Sounds good. Meet up with us, Vakarian. We're moving in on the pod… let's pop this puppy open."

He arrives on the site just as his mate is inputting whatever she had learned from the strange visions in the labs into the alien console of the pod. With hisses and the shift of smooth plating, the pod begins to open, pressurizing with the outer atmosphere. _What would this Prothean think of the change in a world it once knew, of the difference between Eden Prime and whatever this planet was named that Jane said she saw?_

"Goddess…"

"Ugly bastard."

Garrus isn't quite sure he'd go as far as to agree with Jane, but he can't help recognizing all the similarities between the Prothean and the Collectors, the things that the Reapers _hadn't_ changed. Even untouched by the Reapers, that uncanny similarities paint his perception and, in a small way, has him agreeing with his mate.

Liara speaks, but Garrus doesn't notice as he rumbles to push their attention to the movement in the pod, hands on his weapon slowly shifting into combat positions as four golden eyes flutter and blink open. He also should have seen the defensive blast of biotics that sent them flying coming, but he'll admit that the curiosity got the better of all of them.

"You fucking asshole," Jane snaps as she rolls and hops to her feet, his armor making him a bit slower to stand.

"He's just confused…" _Understatement, T'Soni…_ "Remember, it's been fifty thousand years for us, but for him it's only been-"

"I got it!" His mate snaps as she nearly storms to the Prothean.

What happens next happens so fast that Garrus nearly doesn't catch it, almost doesn't realize there is anything out of the ordinary for the already near panicked situation. Yet, he does notice it, sees in the way she lays a hand on the ancient alien's shoulder and, in a split second, it jerks as if burned and falls to the ground, panting.

What isn't expected, from any of them, is when the Prothean speaks _Standard_ and asks of its people. True, it's heavily accented, but it's comprehensible and not just a translator glitch. It explains about somehow managing to 'read' Jane when they touched, to be able to understand now thanks to it, but he's sure that they are bound to have many instances where there will be miscommunications considering that, if Garrus understands correctly, the Prothean now only has _Jane's_ language to translate into its own.

"So will you fight with us or not? Because we can always leave your sorry ass behind."

"Fighting the Reapers alongside primitives?" He scoffs. "The great Prothean Empire was no match for the Reapers and you think you are? Asari, Human, _Turian_?"

Garrus isn't sure why that kind of emphasis had to be added to _his_ species. Harbinger, too, always insulted him by merely calling him 'too primitive' and he's starting to wonder what everyone sees that he doesn't. Turians are more cultured than Krogan and even Grunt and Wrex get better insults. The least everyone can do is put effort into it. _Or is the fact that I'm making such a big deal the whole reason_ _ **why**_ _it's said?_

"Way I see it, your _Empire_ isn't around anymore, so you either help us or stay to be captured and dissected by Cerberus. I'm giving you a chance to fight back this time."

"We shall see, human."


	17. Chapter 17

-Garrus-

"So Wrex thinks this really could be Rachni?" he asks as he fills the last of his munitions compartments with grenades as they prep in the Armory. "I bet he couldn't wait to say 'I told you so'. I still remember the argument you two had on the Normandy after he heard what went down on Noveria."

She shrugs as she finishes installing her newest shotgun modification – why she thought adding a blade to _a shotgun_ was necessary, he isn't sure he wants to know – and answers. "He actually didn't rub it in my face. I think he's shitting bricks about the thought and, trust me, I'm doing enough kicking in the ass for him." Shaking her head, she sighs. "Can't believe I let Liara talk me into releasing her when you even told me not to. I should have just melted the damn thing."

"If you don't mind me interrupting, Commander," Cortez pops his head out from the shuttle where the last of his pre-flight diagnostics are running. "You shouldn't beat yourself up over it. It's a big decision to kill probably the last Rachni alive. Killing the last of a species shouldn't be any one person's burden."

"Noted, Cortez." Her slight scowl proves she hasn't really given herself the slack she deserves over this.

He moves to say something when the lift arrives on the Bay's level, hopefully with their squadmate. Today is the day to see what the biotic mercenary can do, to see if he meshes into Jane's more reckless fighting style and helps keep her from getting a hole blown into her while on the field in ways Garrus can't. He isn't sure the state that Arcanus is in when he arrives is a good sign for his hopes, however.

Instead of armor or any kind of protective kit, or something that _looks_ protective, the man is wearing a simplified version of his robes. Instead of the ornate fabrics, it is a simple black, the long, draping pieces have been cut closer to this body to keep from dragging or getting caught in the field, and the rings on his mandibles have been removed.

At least, Garrus figures, he has a heavily modded Carnifex, but it doesn't really inspire confidence when compared to his choice of 'armor'. _Let's hope his barriers meet up to the rumors and expectations, though we_ _ **do**_ _have a way of meeting odds above the norm, and possible in many instances._

"Oh no, young lady," Jane says, as if knowing _and agreeing_ to his very thoughts, with a stern point of a finger to the lift, "you march your happy ass back up there and wear something fitting a member of the Normandy crew."

Arcanus hums lightly in slight insult. "I assure you, Commander, what you have heard of my barriers is entirely correct. Wearing armor while my own biotics are easily superior will only hinder my performance on the battlefield."

His mate lifts a brow and they both share a look over just how well that confidence will serve given the luck they and their squad tend to have. Shrugging, she drops it and climbs into the shuttle at Cortez's okay. He gives the merc a last look before motioning with his head in 'let's go' and climbs in after the older Turian.

The ride down is uneventful, but no less tense considering the nature of not knowing a damn thing besides the fact that a whole squad of _Krogan_ has gone missing, and Garrus thanks whatever entity may or may not exist that the Rachni have apparently not made ships yet. It'd be a lot more stressful having to outmaneuver Rachni fighters, or whatever they would be capable of making.

That doesn't change the slight unease and wonder of which is worse, the known and obvious enemy action or the horrors hiding under the surface of supposed peace. After all, the biggest instance of such deception was from the peace of Virmire that had actually held the secret of it all, the truth that Saren was not working on his own thoughts, but under the control of a Reaper.

They set down and climb out of the shuttle and hear the voice of a young Krogan they, is a sense, raised. Sure, it was more let out of his pod and went through a Rite together, but teaching him how to function in the galaxy almost qualifies. Jane grins wide and calls out to him, making him shove aside his own men and rush towards them, as much as a Krogan can without Charging, anyway.

No longer with the ideas of 'being invincible' and reckless, Grunt has earned his place in command over what is boasted to be the best of the best the Krogan have to offer. He's earned it, both through his time on the Normandy and, according to him, his ability to put any challengers in their place, and Garrus knows they'll have a good company backing their advance into the unknown.

"Meet us at the scouting camp when you're ready to move." Grunt looks them over, his joke about _two_ Turians now being on the ship still making himself chuckle as he shakes his head and follows his men.

"It seems the Urdnot leader does not hold your former companion in disdain. I take it you are to thank for many of the changes in the Krogan people, Shepard."

"Pretty much," she agrees with a smirk to the merc as they walk. "You can say it, I'm awesome." Garrus snorts in amusement at that while Arcanus simply flicks a mandible in what could, in human terms, be considered an eye roll.

The Krogan scout camp is… well, half there and half in a pit. It seems the result of a sink hole, and just one more piece of evidence that they could be dealing with Rachni as the species is known for making their nests within the ground due to the colder temperatures, protection from the elements, and darkness. This characteristic, unfortunately, also hides the true size of their nests until trapped inside one.

"We're right behind you, Shepard."

His mate nods at Grunt in affirmative as she unholsters her weapon, Garrus and Arcanus following with their own weapons. She leads them forward, leading their squad with Aralahk Company taking the rear a few paces behind, into one of the last remaining prefabs from the scouting camp left standing.

Suddenly, with a tremble and groaning creak of metal, the ground falls out from under their feet. The already precariously balanced structure shifts and falls, taking them with it.

It's all they can do to try and have an iota of control, holding on as it falls and rolling when it tosses them down to the ground. The landing is still rough and a bit painful, but better than he expected despite landing flat on his back with a loud grunt.

"Shepard! You good?"

"Just fucking peachy." She throws a human gesture up at Grunt's drawn out chuckle before picking her weapon up off the ground. "I advise against following _that_ way down."

"We'll find another way and circle back around. Leave some for us!"

"Yeah, yeah," she huffs as she turn to Garrus and Arcanus. "Injuries?"

"Does a blow to my pride count?" Garrus asks with a chuckle as the older man rumbles in amusement and brushes the dust from his robe off. "I'll admit, not one of my most graceful moments."

"Let's move in. We're wasting daylight," his wife orders as she brushes off her weapon.

They head into the tunnels, massive cave sized structures dug into the rocks and gradually leading down into the colder sublevels of the planet, Utukku. The fact that they're finding scout bodies, starting to decay and showing signs they've been dead for at least a few days, is more than a little foreboding, but they push on into the dark, cold caverns with only their lights, and his visor, illuminating the way.

"May have found something…" Jane shifts the Firestorm to her shoulder as the tunnel opens into a massive chamber. "I can't see it dead on from here. Garrus, get me eyes on that shape further down the way."

He nods and lifts his rifle to use the magnification of the scope, growling when the curves and sleek black of a very recognizable form takes shape in the distance. "Damn. We have Reapers."

"Just fucking great," she curses as she brings a hand to her ear. "Grunt. Watch out, we have Reapers here. If this is Rachni, they're Reaper husks, now."

"They still die no matter what they are."

"Watch yourself, Grunt." The comm goes silent to keep both teams' approach as quiet as possible and she turns to Arcanus. "Looks like you get to see first-hand what happens to any poor bastards that the Reapers get their robot tentacles on."

"Then it is a mercy to end their torment and a mercy that will be quick."

"A bullet between the eyes tends to do it."

"Enough chit chat, ladies," Jane snaps in a whisper as they enter a chamber covered in the strange, mucus type webbing. "Just because we haven't found anything doesn't mean we won't, so stay alert."

He admits that she's right, and that something isn't right in the fact that they haven't found themselves more trouble than the few gestation pods that she easily burned before they could figure out what was held within. This could mean one of two things, that circumstances were finally looking up or, and more likely, things were able to go horribly sideways.

Sideways, as in, the cave in that begins to fall around them. It first starts with the tiny clicks of pebbles, then a groaning rumble, and, before anyone had a chance to alert the others, boulders began to crash down around them. There was no option but to run, to go forward into the only tunnel and path before them before the way back to the entrance of the tunnels was lost behind an immovable mountain of shifted rock. No way to dig through what was surely the entire chamber collapsed before them, they moved on, deeper into the tunnel system.

"Shepard, we heard what sounded like a cave in. You still alive?"

Garrus snorts and answers for her. "No love for me, I see. And I was the fun one who was willing to buy you dances on Omega."

He chuckles that slow laugh of his. "Still waiting for that one."

Jane rolls her eyes and motions to keep moving, letting Grunt get back to commanding his men. They head deeper into the tunnels, not knowing if they'll manage a way down considering how much further from the surface it seems these tunnels are taking them, until they hear the news they both expected, wanted, and, yet didn't want, to hear.

"We must be getting close," Grunt huffs over the comm, the sound of gunfire muffled from most likely being fired from another cover than his own. "Some heavy fighting. These things are tough bastards!"

"Rachni?"

"Something like it, Shepard. They're different now."

"Must be the Reaper tech," Garrus adds and she nods in agreement. "We need to find them."

"Anything is better than this creepy suspense," she agrees and starts to double time it with the need to catch up to Aralahk and provide if not cover fire, then move forward into the main chamber of these tunnel systems. If anything from his years has ever taught him anything, it's that Garrus knows there is no way the source of something bad wouldn't be in the epicenter.

As if spurred on by Grunt's affirmative on the Reaper threat, the tunnels and chambers begin to burst with life, filling with the sounds of the wailing moans of human husks. They come from their twelve and Arcanus, try to his claims, easily throws up a barrier that he uses as a physical wall, stopping the husks.

The creatures start to pile up against the biotic barrier, groaning and hissing as they try to claw at the field, and it gives Jane the perfect chance. He watches as she moves past the merc, flaring with her own power, and steps just at the edge of the barrier.

Biotics glowing from her skin, she slams her fist to the ground and sends the husks flying, crashing to the walls and ground. It has always been a powerful blast every time she uses it, but, unlike most times, she isn't left stranded in the field with no barriers but, instead, still within the biotic shield. It seems that Garrus owes it to her, she knew what she was doing when she signed the merc on.

"Quite impressive, Shepard," Arcanus says with a rumble as he drops the barrier.

She smirks and shrugs as her barrier shimmers over her once again before calming. "What can I say I'm just that- What the fuck is that?!"

Garrus growls and lifts his weapon to look just as something goes flying from her, over his shoulder, and smacking the wall with a sickening, wet crunch. It takes a moment to register what just happened, left trilling in confusion, but he shakes it off and looks at the ground by his feet, seeing a tiny, bug like creature glowing with tech under its exoskeleton.

"That little… fuckers!" She yells in exasperation and he starts to chuckle, looking to the confused merc.

"She's afraid of the smaller Rachni, says they look like 'roaches', whatever those are."

"Not another word out of you, Vakarian. And you," she points a finger from him to Arcanus. "I better not hear anything about it from you. I was just surprised, is all."

"Why, yes, Commander. I will be sure not to confirm nor deny your very feminine fear of small insects." He rumbles in amusement with a slight smirk and she narrows her eyes before turning her back.

"You forget I know that look and sound is as good as you saying, 'Oh, please, shoot me now to save you the headache'." Leading the way, she jumps from one ledge to the other, setting more of those pods that, apparently, hold more of those tiny Rachni creatures as Garrus and the mercenary leader follow.

Halfway through the chamber by the winding path of jumps and small passageways, they hear the echo of gunfire and shouts of Krogan, only amplified by the bouncing of the sound through the cavern. Speeding up as fast as they can, which makes him envy Arcanus because of his lack of heavy armor, they finally come to their last obstacle, a high ledge. He and the other man can make it if they either boost the other or find perhaps two or three footholds with which to climb up, but Jane's short enough as it is, so she's definitely going to need the help he knows she's going to hate asking for.

"Fucking… fuck." She groans in frustration and anger as she drops the Firestorm and tries to climb it. "I just need… a foothold."

"No time," he growls and kneels behind her, ducking his head between her legs and standing, picking her up. He knows she curses something, probably an insult, but he ignores her as he pushes on her rear in silent command. "Stand up and climb."

Hearing her grumble, he uses his hands to give her feet leverage up onto his shoulders, grunting a bit at his back's protest at a fully armored woman _standing_ on him. Almost as soon as her whole weight shifts and balances on his shoulders, she's off, climbing up.

"Shepard! We're blocked and getting overrun!"

"Fuck, come on you two." Her hand appears over the edge and he turns to Arcanus, kneeling on a knee, figuring it'd be easier for him to lift a man in perhaps a lightly armored robe than the opposite.

He easily boosts the man up, watching Jane help pull him up, and then it's his turn. His climb takes longer than their boosts, but he manages the few holds that he had expected before he's able to grab onto the offered hands, first Arcanus and then Jane's as they both help pull him up.

It is soon a rush to find where the gunfire is coming from, where they can manage to open the path for Grunt and his men. Garrus almost worries their paths will never intersect when they find a Reaper construct with wires coiled around it and leading to a large structure rising from the ground to dig into the rock above. With no option alternatives, and no clue if it'll actually work, he motions to the others in 'step back' before he fires at the glowing core of the construct.

A loud screeching of metal makes his ears ring and he even sees Arcanus and Jane wince, but it actually works. His idea cuts the power to the 'door' and it slowly unfurls from the ceiling of the cavernous tunnel to the shifting of rocks and rain of pebbles and dirt.

Aralahk rush in, firing behind them before stopping and lowering their weapons. Whatever the reason, and he's afraid to know exactly what that reason is, Grunt seems satisfied with the situation as he hops down from the ledge. "The Rachni have backed off for now, but they can smell our wounds. Any worthy enemy would regroup and finish us. Soon."

"We have to be close," Garrus says as he motions to another path that had been opened when the Reaper construct was destroyed. "Whatever they're defending has to be the central chamber."

Humming in thought, Grunt nods and looks to his men before back to them. "We'll dig in here, kill anything that moves. Should buy you some time."

As he and his men begin to spread out and regroup, their own group heads into the path yet unknown. The further they go, the thicker the Reaper tech becomes, their path nearly engulfed by the glowing tubes of coiled cords and whatever else might make a Reaper that Garrus isn't sure he wants to know.

"Well, boys..." Jane suddenly stops at a dead end, hands on her hips as she looks at something. Confused, he rounds her and tries to follow her eyes just as she says, "Looks like we're crawling."

"You can't be serious," he deadpans with a look at smallest tunnel he's ever seen. "There's no way I can fit in there."

"Seems your armor has become a nuance in this instance," Arcanus rumbles with a slight smirk and Jane snickers.

"Touché, Arcanus, but let's see what happens when we face the bastards waiting for us down there." Sighing, she pats his chest plate and gets down to start crawling on her hands and knees.

 _Not the kind of place I'd like to see her in that position_ , he thinks with a huff as he looks to the merc. "Go. I'd rather be in the back if I'm going to get wedged. Better to be the cork at the end than block you from helping her."

The man nods with a rumble and climbs into the passage and Garrus follows. Crawling, and hating the sound of metal scraping against the ceiling that's a sign he'll definitely have to have this armor possibly replated, he hears a yelp from his mate in surprise. He rumbles in worry, wishing that his order of persons in the passage hadn't put someone between himself and his wife, but he is soon answered at what happened when he hears a grunt of surprise and watches the merc drop out of the passage directly before him.

It's pitch black, but he finds the edge of the hole they fell through. He doesn't have much choice how to get down besides making sure he doesn't fall on his face, so he drops down. The fall isn't a far one and he merely lands with a grunt in some sort of sand, or soft dirt, and shallow water.

Looking around at the better lit chamber, he sees Jane and Arcanus not far off from his position, but his attention is more focused on the same thing theirs is, the massive Reaper structure that is binding itself to the very structure of the chamber. "We found the central chamber."

"Glad you could join us, Vakarian." Her eyes never leave the large, smooth wall of tech blocking the path to the centermost area of the cavern, most likely where the source of everything is. "Looks like we're going to be in for a fight."

"It would seem so."

"I am shocked that we have not met greater resistance."

"Oh, we will, Arcanus. We will," she promises as she hops down from the ledge and into the area lit by some sort of standing liquid that emits a dull glow that throws shadows around the chamber. Garrus follows without hesitation, landing beside her and scanning the opposite side of the chamber as her in search for the power source to the large Reaper 'wall' in their path.

Arcanus' feet landing in the soft sand beside him are louder than they should be, echoing around the chamber and twisting in sounds that are nothing like the thud of feet on sand covered rock. At least, they _shouldn't_ sound a bit like moans and splashing. _Oh crap…_

"Incoming!" He yells as a group of human forms round the corner, gripping his wife's shoulder to spin her towards the danger.

"We got Cannibals on our left," she says as they duck behind cover that will block both directions. "Garrus, take them and Arcanus and I will take the Husks out."

He nods in understanding and watches as the two biotics both move from cover, her jumping over to run head first into the charging husks and he to either fire with his own weapon or save the heat sink and simply beat them with it. He doesn't know which is worse, the fact that he now has two squad mates so willing to walk out into the battlefield while he's behind trying to watch their sixes, or that she was already bad enough as it was and now has a sort of _encouragement_ in the mercenary.

Now isn't the time to debate, however, as he takes aim on a husk trying to rip pieces off of another to better protect itself. He waits to watch its movements, watching until he sees the perfect shot as it stands up straight and turns. When it does, he fires, finger twitching to release a high powered munition and send it flying across the chamber between the four eyes.

"One down – wait," he trills and looks directly at the bright orange glow, eye widening in shock at what he's seeing.

He can only assume it's what the Reapers have done to the Rachni, turning them into a walking, bulbous cannon. It seems unsteady on its small feet, but what it lacks it makes up for in firepower as it sights down the field. Garrus just manages to yank his mate into cover as the thing fires, sending a three-round burst of artillery.

"Holy shit, that thing." She peeks out as he takes aim at another Cannibal, dropping it.

"Where's Arcanus?"

"Around that rock. Arcanus, we got some kind of bug cannon, so watch your back."

"Noted. Though my barrier will negate any damage."

She rolls her eyes at that, but Garrus ignores her as he motions their six, where more husks have started to crawl in through the passages in the walls. "Keep them off me and I'll take out that cannon."

Seeing her nod, he trusts her to protect his back as he focuses solely on the giant beast firing at their robed ally. Not that he wants a moment of 'I told you so', but Garrus has to admit that the man's ability to hold a barrier is helping to keep it distracted as Jane takes on all the husks and he fires upon the sacs beneath its cannons.

"Just because I said my barriers can take damage does not mean I appreciate being used as a distraction," Arcanus growls over the comm as he manages to get into his own trouble with husks and Cannibals surrounding him. Unfortunately, Garrus can't let his mate go to assist him, not with the Rachni still up and firing, so the man will just have to hold off or find cover.

 _Finally_ , Garrus fires a last of however many rounds into the bulbous sacs beneath the underbelly of the living cannon and it practically deflates, bursting into a cloud of what has to be noxious gas. Giving his wife an 'all clear' to go, he sights some of the circling husks around Arcanus and begins to lay covering fire, hearing the man's frustrated growls over the comm as they try to climb onto him, unable to actually hit through his barriers.

From his place, he growls as he sees another Rachni taking aim on his squadmates. He gets a shot off and into its body that's strong enough to stagger it, but it still fires itself. Its fire goes off course and into the rocks beside Jane and Arcanus.

Jane doesn't even notice it, but manages to get out of the way by charging unsuspectingly, and Arcanus sees it at the last minute, diving into a cover with a growl. " _Futue_ ," he shouts over the comm with a snarl as the dust settles.

Had he been in any other situation that didn't involve trying to drop a giant cannon of a creature, he'd be surprised at seeing the man he, even in C-Sec, never knew could drop composure. He might be hurt, but Jane will have to deal with it because he is the only one with the high enough caliber weapon that can take the Rachni down at range.

"Arcanus, report." He curses inwardly as, just as the one drops, another moves to replace it, all of their numbers surrounding the release for the Reaper blockade.

"Minor injury," he answers before a loud grunt clicks over the comm. "Shoulder dislocation, but it is relocated."

"Help me drop this last Rachni. Jane, stick to that area, it doesn't have a lock on you."

"Understood," they both say in union.

The small amount of time it takes to drop the Rachni goes to prove the capabilities of Arcanus' weapon. If he had to say, he would think that the man's weapon might be akin to a rifle, though limited in range due to its small size, but he'd never tell his wife that her 'boom stick' might have competition for the _second_ most powerful gun on the Normandy not counting the ship's cannons.

When the last husk flies off the edge of the cliff at her biotics, he stands and comes towards them as she approaches the blockade's power source. Stopping her from using her weapon, he hands her a grenade, saying, "Set it and gives us a chance to get into cover for whatever may be on the other side."

She nods and wipes the sweat from her forehead as she twists the grenade and sets it against the core, motioning with her hands in a 'go, go, go'. He admits he waits for her to move first before following, the three of them closing the distance to the barricade and dropping into a cover that will, hopefully, block all of their sides. They make it just in time for the munition to go off, a loud cracking and creaking filling the chamber as their barrier falls into the ground with a loud crash.

"Shepard! The Rachni are backing off!" Grunt seems exhausted, panting with a rumbling buzz to his voice that must be what happens to Krogan when there are continuously shouting. "Whatever spooked them won't last. Finish the job."

"Under… stood?" She trails off and shakes his shoulder, making him turn and see what she sees.

If there was any doubt that this was due to the Queen, then all those doubts are confirmed as, before them and suspended in a sort of cage made from Reaper tech, is the very Queen they released on Noveria three years ago. Even worse, it almost feels like recognition passes over its face as it flicks it eyes over them, fingers clenching in the air.

"Si…lence," the numerous Krogan bodies say, the obvious missing scouts that they hadn't found in the tunnels and probably kept like this, in some near death state like the Asari in Peak 15, for it to speak. He doesn't want to know what the Queen expected to make her keep these men alive. "The… maddening sour note has ceased."

"I remember you and I sure hope you remember me." Jane scowls as she approaches, kicking aside a limp arm from one of the Krogan.

"We remember… We kept our promise, retreated back through the relay. We started… a new home. Beautiful children. Harmony…" It makes a sort of whining noise as its head flicks to the sides and Garrus can only assume a creature like the Rachni feels pain, loss. "But… the machines came. They heard our song. Their shriek of sour notes drowned us out."

"Sour notes… That's the same thing you claimed was heard during the Rachni War. What makes you think I'll just let you go now?"

"We hear the machines, but they cannot control us… they caged us- hurt us. We…had to obey. Remove this last shackle and we are free."

"Shepard," Arcanus steps forward, "If what your reports say is true, than you cannot trust this creature. It could already be Indoctrinated and not know it itself."

Rumbling, Garrus nods in agreement. "We've already had reports of sleeper cells in our own people that belong to the Reapers, Indoctrinated who knows how long ago and being activated when they are in a position to cause the most damage." He looks up to the Rachni, soon growling as he looks back to his mate. "It's already admitting to hearing things just like everyone who's been Indoctrinated has reported whispers."

She pauses and he knows she's thinking, but hopes she sees reason this time, doesn't make the same choice now that could cause a lot of trouble in the long run if he happens to be right. Looking up to the Rachni Queen, Jane scowls. "I gave you one chance, told you not to fuck it up, and here I am finding you in some cave breeding for the Reapers. I'm not going to give second chances, not when there's even a _chance_ of you getting embedded in our forces until there's the perfect chance to screw us."

"Release us! We will fight the machines. Release us before the children return or they will kill us all!" The chamber begins to rumble, pebbles falling to the ground as Grunt alerts them to incoming movement.

"Understood, you and Aralahk get ready to move out. I just have to clear up a few things." Looking up to the Queen, his wife shakes her head. "You're too big a risk. Maybe without you, these men wouldn't be dead."

"Leave us, then. We… embrace the silence."


	18. Chapter 18

-Garrus-

The MedBay was starting to get cramped with Krogan after they helped Grunt limp onto the Normandy under his insistence to see 'the newest whelps' the moment he heard of them from Wrex. Though, it was more the older Krogan boasting to the over other that _he_ was the first of them to see Garrus' son and daughter. Jane, too, was now taking station in the Bay thanks to Mordin's assurance that now is the time for the cloning antigen in her womb to be extracted, that the cure was almost complete and ready to administer.

The means of administering, they have all found in some strange kind of full-circle, is none other but the same way the Genophage had been administered, and modified, in the first place, the Shroud. There was also something about transmission vectors having to deal with the original Genophage still stored there, but Garrus zoned out right around the time he had to stop Grunt from trying to headbutt his son, even if it was a bare move of his head.

"Hold it right there," he says with a chuckle as he drops his hand between the Krogan and his son's skulls. "I don't think your know your strength enough to try that, Grunt." Grunt grumbles and, instead, gently raises Damocles to his own head. It doesn't even look like they touch, but that's perfect for Garrus' tastes, so he nods with a rumble. "Much better."

He hears Jane snort from her exam bed, her shirt pulled up over her stomach and pants pushed around her hips and ready for Mordin to extract the samples with what looks like a too large needle. No clue how she can watch that thing go into her belly and not be just a bit uneasy, but Garrus chalks it up to just one more of her quirks, the hate of doctors, but not their insanely large needles. Go figure.

"Big bad Turian badass now being a protective daddy," she says with a chuckle as she motions to Eve who is holding their daughter in her arms, the two women bonding over their shared time within the MedBay, as well as one's gratitude to the other's unrepayable action.

Wrex chuckles from where he leans against the wall _far_ from Mordin and his supposed wandering scalpels. "Don't let her flatter you, Garrus. You were never big, bad, _or_ a badass at any ti-" He gets cut off as she throws a heavy equipment tray at him, making him laugh.

"Garrus," EDI comms the room, quieting everyone but the soft vocals coming from the babies. "Primarch Victus is requesting to speak with you in the War Room. He says it is important."

"Tell him I'll be right there," he says as he looks around the room in a quick check to make sure that Jane and the babies are alright being left here.

She can't, according to Solus, be allowed to drop anytime soon due to his need for the samples and insistence that she rest after the procedure, so the next mission, which he assumes will concern the Primarch's request, will be all his to complete. With some comm chatter from Jane back on the ship, of course.

"Off you go, shoo." Jane chuckles as she must read his thoughts and waves him away, much to the displeasure of Mordin who continues to ask her to 'remain still' and insists it 'will only take a moment' all while wielding that spear of a needle. "Three Krogan, a Salarian, and a human can handle two babies – and that also sounds like an amazing opening to a joke..."

Shaking his head, he leaves her to trying to think up something as Mordin starts to take his sample, Wrex keeps his distance from any medical instruments while still watching over the Genophage work, and Eve and Grunt tending to and enjoying the baby in their hands.

He passes Cortez and Jimmy in the Mess talking with Javik, which is surprising considering his _high_ views of every single one of the crew and their level of cultural evolution, as one of them makes the, most likely, _worse_ smelling food Garrus has ever had the displeasure of smelling. He gives them a nod in greeting and thanks his luck that he doesn't actually have to pretend to stomach the scent as only Steve gives him a glance and tilt of his drink in returned greeting before returning to their conversation.

Taking the lift down to the War Room, he walks in to find the Primarch fringe deep in numbers and casualty reports. It's not a position he knows all too well, the two of them switching off in efforts to try to keep any single one of them from going completely insane under the weight, and it isn't one that bodes well for this particular conversation.

"You wanted to speak to me, sir?" He stops and stands at rest, rumbling in question.

"At ease, Garrus," Victus responds as he stands and turns to him. "There's a situation I must ask your help on, but I was weary to announce to your ship's Intelligence given the… sensitive nature."

"What is it?"

"A Hierarchy ship has gone down on Tuchanka. There are survivors, but they are pinned down by an advanced guard of Reapers scouting the planet." The man hums and pulls his mandibles tight in concern. "This mission is a matter of galactic peace and highly classified, Garrus. The Ninth Platoon must finish their mission or your mate's efforts to cure the Genophage might as well mean nothing." Garrus raises a brow with a rumble in question, but Victus doesn't elaborate, instead changing subjects with, "The commander is Lieutenant Tarquin Victus. He'll be your contact."

This time it's Garrus' turn to pull his mandibles in, though his reason is less worry and made more of suspicion at the weight being put behind the Primarch's words. "What _exactly_ is this platoon doing on Tuchanka that you have to put your _son_ in charge, jumping tiers in the process?"

"I needed someone I could trust completely." Sighing, he motions Garrus to follow as he turns to the projection of the terminal he has been given with connections to the Hierarchy and Palaven Command and pulls up a readout of the ship's diagnostics before it crashed, areas lit up from damage. He figures it's the safest thing to show without anyone mistakenly overhearing or seeing, but it doesn't help explain, so he listens in as the man continues.

"There is… a warhead on Tuchanka," Victus says low enough only the two of them can hear with a growl of frustration. "It dates back to the Krogan Rebellions, but, given the relations after the Genophage, it hasn't been defused properly. Before the crash, the Ninth Platoon was to defuse it, but they were reporting something else. They believe Cerberus may be involved."

 _And I don't believe in such a thing as coincidence,_ Garrus thinks with a growl. There's no way that the information of this bomb just happened to the 'leaked' without Hierarchy knowledge, not if the Primarch was already so hesitant to tell him and he's practically Victus' second in command during this war. Sure, there had to be people who knew of this bomb on Tuchanka, but assuming any of them _willingly_ passed this information on to a human terrorist group was pushing the realm of what he could believe.

Willingly? Perhaps not, but unknowingly? Now that was something he hated even more to think about.

Is it so hard, considering the news he's hearing of world leaders 'advising citizens to surrender to the Reapers without any harm coming to them', to think that there are more people under the sway of Reaper control than they thought?

It's already obvious that Cerberus itself is now no better than Reaper husks with prettier exteriors and flying the white, orange, and black, so it's not too far flung to imagine that there could have been someone, or some _ones_ as he shutters to think, within the Hierarchy that are directly influenced by the Reapers in a capacity that they are able to relay information. From there, the Reapers would only have to influence – _control_ – Cerberus into playing its part, dividing the resistance forces and fool them into believing there is another threat, while they continue to wipe out all sentient species.

"Victus," he forgoes all respects in effort to get his point across, to appeal to the man's senses and not what he thinks he has to do under the procedural expectations as Primarch, "You need to bring the Krogan in. If Cerberus _and_ the Reapers are on Tuchanka, then a stranded platoon isn't going to be enough to stop them and defuse that bomb."

"I'm not you, Garrus. You may have friendship with Wrex, but I have to look out for our people as he does his." He frowns and closes the holo-display, leaning on his hands with head down. "If The Krogan find out it was a Turian bomb, they will never ally with us. It's better to have a grateful ally than a resentful enemy."

"Cerberus is working with the Reapers," he answers with a growl. "The Reapers have already downed your son's ship and you expect us to race against the clock _and_ both of them on top of that? It's better to show that you aren't trying to go behind their backs than Wrex finding out anyway because _he's on the ship_ that we will be taking into the Krogan DMZ."

The Primarch sighs and shakes his head, rumbling in apology. "I'm sorry, Garrus, but I can't risk the 'what ifs'. Rescue my son and his men first, tally their losses, and, if needs be," he pauses with a flick of his mandible, "then I will follow your lead and ask the Krogan for aid."

"Don't think of it as asking for aid," Garrus corrects with a pat on his friend's shoulder. "I know Wrex, know he'd see the warhead being planted so long ago as something his kind would have done to us if given the chance. We won't ask for forgiveness and help fixing something as if guilty, we'll ask him for Krogan to fight alongside in showing Cerberus what happens when you try to bomb Tuchanka."

* * *

So many of the Ninth Platoon was lost on Tuchanka, either from the crash of an ill-chosen decision that anyone could have made given the situation or from the resulting effort to hold off Reaper forces until rescue. There weren't many left, a mere shell, and it was obvious that they wouldn't stand a chance against Cerberus, even with Garrus and his squad's aid. He didn't need to be told what to do, but it was worth asking for an outside opinion to make sure he wasn't just being brash and impulsive like most times.

Arriving at the Loft where his wife is resting up, angrily considering she wasn't able to drop with the team, he steps in and finds her sketching as the babies sleep beside her in the bed. He knows that looks deceive, that she's boiling inside at the fact of being still while there's battle concerning her own men, but he can't help the thought of how deceivingly peaceful she looks.

A deception that falls apart the moment she looks up at him with a scowl and announces, "God. Fucking. Dammit. I _need_ to be down there, Garrus. Now I find out there's a _bomb_ in Cerberus hands? How long have you known without telling me?"

"It's not like I didn't want to tell you, believe me, but you were in the MedBay when I found out and the urgency forced me to drop immediately. Not even Javik and Jimmy knew." Rumbling, he sits down on the bed and takes her hands, rubbing her fingers without a care at the charcoal getting on his gloves. Not that it'd even show on the black weave and the smell is actually quite soothing considering the source and fact that she won't be beside him for this mission, equally as urgent as the last. "I was coming to you for your opinion, actually."

"About? If it's fighting styles, I'm afraid you're too old to learn a whole new skill set."

He mock sighs at her smirk and kisses her cheek, elaborating, "I meant on what I should do. Victus is sure that bringing this up to Wrex is bound to cause tension for this alliance. He thinks we should fix it and just hope he doesn't find out."

"Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission… old human saying."

"Jane, the Ninth Platoon won't make it if we don't have backup. There's only a small number of them left." He hums and looks in her eyes, saying, "The Krogan can turn the tide, buy time to defuse the bomb, but, then again, Victus could be right-"

"And Wrex could be pissed at finding out there's an active warhead on his planet. And, yet, I sense a 'but'."

He nods with a slight flick of his mandible as his thumbs mindlessly rub her palms. "If I play this right, I might be able to convince Wrex that the Krogan were going to be included and made aware all along. I doubt he'd blame the Hierarchy for leaving a warhead on Tuchanka in a war, unable to defuse it after the Genophage dispersal, and if he thinks that the bomb was taken by Cerberus _before_ we could alert the Krogan," he looks in her emerald eyes, "then perhaps I might just be able to play it off as unfortunate circumstances."

Chuckling, her lips curl in smile as she shakes her head. "You're a devious bastard. I say go for it. And if he doesn't like it, tough shit. He either swallows his pride as a favor to his friends and helps, or he has to face his own people when it gets out that he's partially responsible for a small team of Turians being unable to defuse a Cerberus bomb." She frowns and shifts her hands in his to link their fingers, adding, "And if he still doesn't, then this deal if off and I destroy any hope of this cure working. I won't lose you to his stupidity."

Rumbling in reassurance, he leans closer and kisses her with a bare nip of his mouth plates. "I have to go talk to him. Wish me luck," he says with a bit of a wince, having a good idea that this will involve a hell of a lot of yelling and ire thrown around the War Room.

She chuckles as he goes, wishing him luck with a smile. "Kick some ass, Garrus."

Arriving at the War Room moments later, he motions Wrex to follow him out into the Conference hall. "Wrex, we need to talk."

"What about?" His red eyes narrow in suspicion.

"In where I was with my squad, Tuchanka." Exhaling heavily, he looks into the man's eyes without hesitation or submission. "We were extracting a Turian platoon that crashed as they were attempting to defuse a warhead from the Krogan Rebellions."

The man immediately shoves him against the wall with a snarl, but Garrus doesn't flinch, doesn't fight as he lets Wrex get the anger out. "First you sterilize us and then you left a bomb on my planet?! A bomb you are _just now_ trying to defuse?!"

"You and I both know there was no way the Hierarchy could have defused it before now, not when _I'm_ the first Turian to have set foot on Tuchanka. And you are only upset about the warhead because you _know_ it's what your people would have done had things been different."

Wrex pauses for just a moment before shoving off him, everything he needs to say to let Garrus know he's right. "You telling me this just to piss me off?"

"No, I'm telling you because Cerberus has the bomb." That gets his attention, a scowl, and a growl. "There's also a chance that the Reapers can be involved and there aren't enough men left from the crash to hold them off _and_ disarm the bomb. Are you willing to put aside the differences to protect Turians while they fix a situation made in the past, to offer Krogan support while the Ninth Platoon finishes their mission?"

Grumbling, Wrex turns away, keeping one eye on him that constricts into a sliver of pupil. "When were you going to tell me this if you didn't need my help?"

"I think the saying is, better to beg forgiveness than ask permission," he offers with a rumble and slight smile.

A huff and dilation of pupils is all he gets before Wrex shakes his head. "You're lucky I'm more forgiving than most. My brother wouldn't have understood so easily. I'll get you some Krogan to watch your scrawny asses in a real fight and you make sure that damn bomb is taken care of."

Garrus chuckles and nods in both understanding and thanks, heading for the Armory to prepare. "EDI, alert Lieutenant Victus to expect backup from Krogan forces and plan for a fight. I doubt Cerberus will be alone in this, not when our war effort weighs on whether or not this warhead blows."

"Understood, Garrus. Would you like me to alert your chosen team to report to the Armory for debriefing?"

"Send your platform and alert Liara."

* * *

_Why does the universe only listen to me when I say the worst of possibilities?_

He curses his own cynical nature as another rocket flies over his cover, exploding against the pillar that looks about two more hits before collapsing. At least, he figures, the Reaper and Cerberus forces weren't as friendly as he had assumed. Instead, it seems that the moment the Cerberus troops fired upon the Reapers, all bets were off and it became a three way battle of forces.

It also illustrated just how Indoctrinated Cerberus really was. He doubts the Reapers would have their own forces fire on the other in some sort of show and weaken their forces in result, it just doesn't fit with their nature to overwhelm and physiologically combat their enemy. If they were currently using species' own people as husks, what would infighting possibly gain them?

Not that now was the time to debate that as a Krogan charges past him and into the fray, smashing two Marauders together as Garrus ducks out and drops an Engineer trying to set up a turret. They only needed to hold out a little longer, buy Victus and his team a bit more time. True, it meant enemy forces were greater in number, surrounding and pushing them closer and closer under the massive warhead and into the shallow crater beneath, but they were using the infighting to their advantage, taking out the single forces as the other hostiles were distracted.

"Victus, status!" He yells over the comm as he rolls out of cover just as the Atlas rounds the corner, bullets littering the ground after him. Sliding into cover, he's already scanning for the next as a Brute slams into the mech, roaring as it pushes it over the field in a cloud of dust. _Well, there's one problem taken care of for now._

"Firewall's down! I'm in!... _Futuo Spiritus_ …"

"What? What is it," he growls over the comm, not liking the sound of that. "Speak, solider!"

"Cerberus hacked the trigger mechanism! It's set to detonate!" The Lieutenant's voice is a high shrill in his comm.

" _Futue_ ," he growls in a channeling of his wife and motions his men away from under the bomb. It wouldn't help, but it's less daunting to have death hovering over your head instead of at least _trying_ to get out of the way. "I'm not dying on this shithole. Disarm it!"

"There's no time – wait! I have to separate the trigger from the bomb. Get out from under it! Now!"

Snarling, he looks up as the Krogan who can begin to push out from the crater and sees the young Turian climbing the support strut of the bomb. "Damn." He looks around and motions Liara to watch his back, sucking any Reapers trying to climb up behind him into a Singularity, as he covers the man with his rifle from any flying gunfire.

Over the comm, he can hear the loud hiss of the release and frantic grunt in effort as Victus manually forces the detonator to release. Garrus hear the loud bangs as the clamps release, but when he expects to see the casing crashing to the ground, he instead hears a loud, groaning creak of metal scraping.

Looking up with a confused rumble, he sees Tarquin Victus quickly climbing onto the clamps and realizes what he's doing, what he's sacrificing. It stuns him in his place, makes him growl in anger at the unnecessary price this war is, once again, costing, and he only snaps back to the fight when his visor alerts to the deployment of a Cerberus turret. _He's just a damn kid…_

"Victory," Victus whispers, vocals strong with determination, with assurance that he chooses this. "At any cost."

Forgoing all fight – it wouldn't mean anything anyway seeing as how nearly all of the battle is under that very detonator – Garrus stands with wide eyes as he watches Tarquin grip onto the casing as it falls, as if in slow motion. It hurts, physically hurts, now that he's a father himself to see the slight fear that burns through the resolve of sacrificing like any 'good Turian' should, at dying for the cause, in the screen of his visor.

Never a good Turian, however, and, in fact, being one of the worst, Garrus runs to into the crater just as the detonator crashes into a fiery explosion of fuel and crumbling metal. He doesn't know if the readings of life are who he's looking for, but he tries, tries to search because he doesn't want the see the pain in the eyes of another father that will only send him into nightmares of being put in that position.

Shoving twisted metal aside, he finds _him_ , finds the young Lieutenant that can't be older than twenty-six, and reaches into the flames, ignoring the burn where there is nothing but undersuit. He hooks his fingers under the lip of his chest plate and yanks, dragging Tarquin out of the flames and rubble.

"Don't you die, dammit," he says to the flicker of vitals on his visor, growling as he drags the man to safety and begins to press medigel on what he assumes are the worst of the wounds. "Cortez, we need an immediate evac. EDI, alert the MedBay." _I can't lose the son of a friend, a kid who never should have been given this responsibility, dammit. There's too much death, already._

The ride in the shuttle to the Normandy is filled with him holding hands to the open, bleeding wounds in attempts to try and keep Victus alive. He barely notices his own injuries, the wounds not bleeding so not a priority, until they arrive on the ship and Chakwas yanks him into the Bay along with the Lieutenant.

"I can't believe you'd be so foolish," she hisses, but her worried expression as she and Mordin quickly remove armor and undersuit from the younger man is telling enough that she holds no real ire towards any of them. "Shepard is going to kill you."

"Right before I fuck him for coming back." Jane rushes into the MedBay and wraps her arms around him. "I'd knew you'd come back." Stopping at the frantic tension in the Bay, she looks to the other bed and frowns. "Fucking war."

Nodding in agreement, Garrus hums and looks to her taking inventory of his own condition with a scowl. "It looks worse than it really is."

"Bull shit."

"Only second degree," Mordin speaks faster than usual as he and Chakwas start to clean treat Tarquin, one quickly administering medication through and IV as the other cleans the wounds. "Need to perform surgery. Shepard can treat wounds."

She nods and takes his hand, grabbing some supplies from the shelves before yanking him out. "Dammit, Garrus. That was fucking stupid," she snaps as she drags him through the Mess.

"Was I just supposed to let him burn to death?"

"He might still die! Look at you!"

He rumbles and looks at his left arm and sees the slightly swollen, angrily blue hide all around his elbow and the crook of the joint, hand, and underside of his upper arm. "It's not as bad as you think and will barely scar." Looking to her, he cups her cheek with his uninjured hand. "I couldn't just let him die. He may have been ready to die for the cause, but no one should have to suffer being unable to move as your body burns."

She exhales heavily and drops her head, admitting. "You're right… fuck, you're right. He's a _son_ , a child thrown under his dad's shadow-"

The lifts opens to a frowning, keening Primarch. "Vakarian, Shepard. I… I need to see to my son." They nod in silence as he passes, nothing they can say to a man who may very well lose his son within the next few minutes to hours. "And Garrus," he stops and looks to them, rumbling sadly, "He earned the respect of his men because of you. Thank you."

Garrus trills and ducks his head in a soft nod, watching at the man heads into the MedBay, the well-kept stoic appearance he knows the Primarch for crumbling with each step. Seeing the loss, now being able to know the feeling now that he is a father himself, he gently pulls his mate into the lift.

He needs to be with those he loves more than anything, thank Spirits he's never believed in that he hasn't yet felt the pain of having to decide between duty and his family. Knowing his won't choose the same as the older man doesn't help the potential for pain should that choice be taken from him, so he is quiet as he lets Jane wrap his arm and lays with all three of them into the night cycle. He doesn't sleep that night, too lost in thought, but the soft weight of mother and children is comforting.


	19. Chapter 19

-Jane-

"…Primarch, sir, your son would be better cared for on the Citadel. I've done everything I can, but without proper care, care the Normandy just isn't equipped for, we may lose him. I'm sorry."

This wasn't a conversation Jane wanted to walk in on when she went down to the MedBay, but she couldn't just turn around and leave to the sound of the doors that would be like thunder in the uncomfortable silence. _Why the hell didn't Chakwas lock the damn door?_

It's not an anger she feels at walking in at this very inappropriate and inopportune time, but a hatred for what's put them in this place, at the damn war for ripping people and families apart at the seams. Beside that rage is a pain, however, a sense of loss that she can't help but feel at seeing _one more_ person falling in this war whose injures she just may have avoided if she was able to prepare everyone better.

It was the Normandy's job, as the first to see the truth of the Reapers, to prepare the galaxy and, even given the reluctance to believe them, what if there was a way to have done more?

She knows that her pain is nothing compared to Adrien Victus' as she sees his silhouette behind the privacy curtain duck his head and hears his soft keen wracked voice as he speaks. "No, Doctor. I won't leave the Krogan DMZ, not when we are so close to ending the Genophage." He steps closer to the bed and lays a hand on either the bed or his son, Jane isn't sure. "My son's pain will mean nothing…" his shoulders hunch and Jane sees, even in shadow, the Primarch and father battling within, "nothing if we cannot make this peace with the Krogan after so many have lost their lives trying to hold out."

Biting her lip in indecision, she waves her hand over the sensor for the door, letting it open as she walks in place. Better to pretend she didn't intrude on a man's pain that to try and cover for her inability to interrupt before she heard too much of what doesn't belong to her.

"Hey, Chakwas," she says in attempt to be obliviously walking in, quickly 'noticing' the state of the Bay. "Oh, I'm sorry. Should I come back?"

"I'll give you some privacy, Primarch." Her shadow lays a hand on his shoulder before she steps out and tugs the curtains close behind her. Taking an obvious breath to collect herself, she moves towards Jane. "Here for your final evaluation, I take it?"

"I want back on the field, Doctor," she agrees with a nod, lifting her shirt a bit to show the dark black and blue, bruised skin from the massive needle Mordin just _had_ to use to extract the antigen. "I need to be down there today."

She gives Jane a look, but doesn't respond on her views of rushing back to the battlefield like she knows the woman wants to say concerning both her own _and_ her mate's less than optimal conditions right now. It's not like they'd listen and stay out of the fight when this is one of those times that everything has to be right in order to ensure they have a fighting chance in this war.

"Well," Chakwas says as she hands a small packet of pain killers over. "You look like you might just have to worry about pain when you add pressure to your abdomen. I'd have felt better if you had come to me without such a nasty looking bruise, but, internally, you're fine and healed, so I can't stop you. I _am_ more concerned with your husband – who hasn't come to see me, I must add. How is he?"

"Sore, but, like you guys said, it looks like it's just second degree."

"And I'm sure neither of you care that he'll scar else you'd have been down here for something better than salve and medigel." She shakes her head with an exasperated sigh. "Did you at least clean the wounds and bandage them _loosely_?"

"Chakwas, I was spit on by a Thresher, remember?" Frowning at that thought, she crosses her arms and looks at the floor, lowering her voice and trying not to make light of the situation while a man mourns his son's injuries. "I can treat his wounds, and he's feeling good with the light pain meds… but I _need_ him down there. I'm begging you, release him to drop with me."

Karin rubs her frustration, the long hours of tending to all the injuries of this ship's crew on top of, as Jane found out over Brandy, her nightmares from the Collector Base causing more wrinkles and aging upon her face than Jane's seen in the tree years knowing her. "Alright… but you _cannot_ push yourselves. And he needs to come to me after so I can properly tend to his wounds. I may not be able to fix whatever damage going the two days since then without treatment, bit at least he will only scar from it instead of suffer an infection."

"I'll talk to him. Can I go?" _Do I have to stay here and rub it in the Primarch's face that Garrus got it better than his own son because I really don't. Even I have a better heart than that._

With a nod from the Doctor, Jane can't get out fast enough, scrambling to leave the man to his pain in peace. She passes by Mordin and Eve speaking in the Mess, seemingly having their last talk that they may ever have once the Cure is administered and Eve moves towards uniting her people.

Knowing who she will take on this drop along with herself and her mate, she then heads into the Starboard Observation that Arcanus Reguix has taken to calling his 'home' here on the ship. She uses that term lightly as it barely looks like he's made himself at home anywhere on the ship, the only thing here that proves he occupies this room the small desk he uses as a weapons bench and crate that must hold his clothing against the far wall. He certainly is a sparse man, but she assumes that most people in their position are, most of her own things able to fit in a crate should she need it.

"Arcanus," she says as she steps up to where he is resting with his eyes closed, knowing he is merely in thought from the hum she's heard Garrus make. "I know you aren't asleep, so pay attention. We're dropping on Tuchanka to disperse the Cure and I want you to drop with us."

"I see. Who better to cure the Genophage than two Turians and a human," he says in a deadpan that even she doesn't need to know subvocals to hear. He opens his eyes and stands, starting to remove the rings from his mandibles. "I assume we are to drop soon?" She nods and he rumbles with a nod. "Then expect me to be suited and ready shortly."

"Oh," she stops on her way out, scowling at him. "Don't you _dare_ pull that shit again without armor. You nearly got yourself killed, you dumb fuck."

"Commander, that was-"

"Don't give me any of your shit," she snaps and he blinks with a trill in surprise, probably never been talked down to in ages but _so_ good to see on his face. "You will put armor on or I'll kick your ass and kick you off my ship. Your barrier may be able to stop a bullet or deflect biotics, but you nearly got your ass turned into slush from that damn boulder… or what about the husks nearly fucking you up the ass?"

"I…" Clearing his throat, he nods with a rumble, that unconscious Turian move of submitting even if only in conversation. "I understand, Commander."

"Good," she says as she relaxes, no longer ready to rip his ass after accepting her order in both words and the subtle shift she's learned from her mate. "Garrus has a standard issue set that should fit you. Might be a little loose, and it's heavy armor, but we might be able to pull it in to fit."

"That will suffice. I will need some time, but I can adjust it to fit."

"Rush it. We don't have time." She turns to leave, calling over her shoulder. "It's in the Armory. Look for the Titan Armor."

Leaving on his 'understood', she heads down to the Cargo Hold to at least help him and get the armor out and remove the munitions stores that the biotic won't need. She finds her husband down in the Bay already with Wrex prepping their weapons as he and the older Krogan joke.

"How much you want to bet, Turian?"

"That I can killed more Reapers than you? Now that's just an unfair advantage considering you've gotten old and slow sitting on your throne," Garrus rumbles with a chuckle.

"That's it, Vakarian. You're going down."

Chuckling as she walks up, she lifts a brow at them both. "This again? When will you two just kiss already?"

Wrex snorts. "He's scars aren't impressive enough."

" _All hands, full stop! Hostile detected at the Shroud coordinates!_ "

"Fuck," she curses and looks up to the intercom. "Joker, status!"

"We got a Reaper circling the Shroud facility, Shepard."

Garrus growls and looks to her, holstering his weapon. "No way a shuttle can set down with it in the area. You should get suited up, I'll see what we can come up with to get that Reaper off the Shroud." She nods and he motions a pissed Krogan to follow, Wrex stomping after him as they rush to the lift as Garrus orders, "Joker, tell the Primarch to assemble in the War Room and get us eyes on the Shroud."

On the Lift's arrival, and their departure up to the CIC, Arcanus approaches her and starts to examine the armor. "Your mate's, I assume?"

"Yep, but he only used it once after we picked him up on Menae," she says as she strips out of her civvies, a solider at heart and not bothered by the number of crew and her squad in the Cargo Bay. Hearing his slightly appreciative rumble, she chuckles, this just one of those things with Turians though she's sure he wouldn't let his vocals go considering Garrus' possessiveness. "Afraid you're rumbling up the wrong tree, there, Arcanus."

At first, he rumbles confused and frowns, but it soon clicks and he chuckles. "I forget you can understand the Turian subvocals that are in your audible range."

She shrugs. "Just be careful around Garrus. He's just as possessive as I am."

"You talking about Scars? Dios, he's like a horny teenager when his prom date's talking to another, much more handsome man," Vega calls out with one of those bullshit, flirty smirks. "You know what I'm talking about, Lola!"

"I don't think anyone knows what you're talking about, Mister Vega," Steve shouts from stocking his shuttle with crates of extra heat sinks and medical supplies.

Snorting, she shakes her head and pulls on her undersuit, starting to snap her armor in place. Around the time she manages to get it all on, Traynor's voice is heard over the comm calling for her attendance in the Comm Room. Apparently, there is an urgent message confidential enough that even the Comm Specialist wasn't allowed to know the purpose of the call.

Heading up, she passes Wrex, Eve, and Mordin coming out of the Lift and ready to drop. Wrex looks about ready to punch something that so much as _acts_ like a Reaper and Mordin is deep in a set of datapads in his hands, humming in thought as he mumbles to himself. Eve, too, seems a bit tense and ready for this all to be over, for the Cure to finally be spread among their people and a chapter in the book of Krogan struggles closed.

As far as Jane knows, there is only a few pages left since the Cure is already as complete as it can be at this stage, only needing to be combined with the Genophage itself and dispersed. Still, she knows that, in their lives, there is always chance for everything to come crashing down.

"Mordin," She says as she passes them. "No offense to Eve, but is it necessary to bring her into the middle of a warzone?"

"At last stage of synthesis of transplanted antigens. Need to extract at facility to ensure health of samples. Same reason needed to be transferred from you as host to Eve as host, to survive. Short viability outside host."

"Don't worry, Commander. I have too much to live for to let myself fall this close to a cure for our people."

Sighing, she nods in what little acceptance she can at the woman's assurance and steps into the Lift, riding it up to the CIC. She passes by Victus, giving orders over the comm station at his post and back in the position of Primarch and not grieving father, and she gives a nod that speaks so much of what words cannot – 'I am sorry for you and your son', 'he will make it, just hold on', 'thank you', 'we _will_ do this, I promise that', and so much more.

"… I was unaware Commander Shepard and you were sharing authority in this Krogan issue."

"We are both Spectres, so I don't see the reason for confusion, Dalatrass."

It seems she's arrived at just the right time, walking in on her husband crossing his arms in unimpressed contempt. The Dalatrass looks to her and scowls a bit, saying. "Commander, I had no knowledge of your _mate_ being involved in these negotiations, in answering your private hails."

"I don't see why you'd think that," she responds with a fight to not match Garrus' pose and attitude. "He was present during the Summit, as you must remember, and he was present when we transported the female Krogan. He isn't a subordinate on this ship, but my partner, no matter what our private relation is, so he can take hails same as myself."

He nods in agreement and thanks before turning back to the holographic woman. "Now, we are about to drop into a warzone with very a miniscule margin of error, so why don't you tell us what is so important it _had_ to be heard now?"

"I imagine Mordin has proposed using the Shroud to disperse the Cure as it is the only viable course of action open to you." Jane shrugs slightly in a silent 'yeah, and your point?', making the woman scowl slightly. "Commander, you can't let the diplomatic pressure of this war cloud your judgment. You must see that the Krogan are a brutish race prone to the need for vengeance. Do you really think curing the Genophage would just curb that appetite and ensure peace?"

"I don't think it'll matter what I answer that with, quite frankly, because I know you didn't call to shoot the shit, so why don't you cut the pleasantries?"

That doesn't really help the woman's upset, but the two women never got along, the Dalatrass too set in the ways of centuries ago for Jane's tastes, and she responds, "Bullying won't get you anywhere, Commander. These Krogan will repopulate out of control, do what we uplifted them for, and start another war the _moment_ the Reapers will fall. They are not diplomats, but violent, spiteful monsters. You will not get what you want from the Shroud."

"Try us," Garrus growls and reaches for the end transmission when the Dalatrass continues.

"Our operatives sabotaged the Shroud facility long ago to ensure what you are attempted could not be done. Granted, Mordin will most likely detect this malfunction and repair it, the facility unable to be completely destroyed or corrupted without suspicion, but I am here to offer you an alternative. I do not care how, but if you ensure Mordin cannot repair the Shroud, then the cure will be altered enough so that it fails. The Krogan will not notice the change and you will still retain your army. In return, we can provide the best scientists to build the Crucible and full support of our fleets."

Smirking, she looks to her mate, asking, "Do you want to do it or shall I?" He simply rumbles with a motion of his hand in what she can only describe as a 'ladies first' gesture and she steps forward, smirk turning into a scowl. "Let me be frank when I say, go fuck yourself, Dalatrass." Large eyes widen with a scoff in disgust at the disrespect, but she continues. "And let me say this, time to grow up and see that this isn't centuries ago. Salarians, of all people, should know how to let shit go with how short your lifespans are. Why waste what you have holding grudges that your _ancestors_ had?"

"You… insolent-"

Jane taps the end communications button with a jab of her finger. "Sorry, but we have a mission."

* * *

 

The Reaper was massive.

Not as huge as the Sovereign class, true, but larger than their tiny, only surviving ground vehicle. Any idea for a distraction from a ground and sky assault went up in flames with the lost fighters and into dust with the swallowed up Krogan tanks. _And it was such a good idea, too._

As it was now, they were stuck a hard place and an equally hard place with a Thresher Queen at their back and a Reaper in the way between themselves and the Shroud. So what was it really, death below – which has to be painful if her past with Maws is any indication – or death up the ascending stairway to hell? What a tough decision she wished she didn't have to make anytime soon.

Although, what Eve was proposing…

Now that was something Jane would _pay_ to see, though perhaps not with her own life. However, like always, sitting this one out wasn't an option, so it looked like she and her team were looking at ascending the fallen pillars and stairs up to get an up-close look at this new kind of Reaper while they tried to set off a pair of Maw hammers. What could go wrong?

"Alright, let me get this straight," she starts with a deep breath to calm her rising nerves at _calling a damn Thresher Maw_. "We try to get up there between its feet while you three stay here, Wrex watching for Reapers while Mordin extracts and synthesizes the cure? Jesus, we're fucking crazy…"

"And everything else you've ever done isn't?" Wrex smirks. "And when this is done, we'll have a hell of a story to tell those whelps of yours." She snorts and nods, motioning her team to move out, but he stops her.

"Wait," he says as he walks up to her and Garrus. "I want you to know, whatever happens, you two have been a champion to the Krogan people, friends of Clan Urdnot…" Stepping forward, he offers her a hand, "And a better family to me than my own. To every Krogan born after this day, 'Shepard' and 'Vakarian' will mean 'heroes'!"

Smirking, she yanks his hand and hugs him. "You're such a sap, Wrex," she responds as he snorts and he and Garrus share a strong armed hand clasp. "We'll be bringing Kalros to the party in no time, just make sure Mordin and Eve are ready."

The Krogan nods and smirks at her mate. "And you better not cheat, you dirty Turian, or I'll know." Garrus chuckles and is about to responds when they hear the shrill cry of Rachni husks coming up on their six. Whipping out his shotgun, Wrex pushes her mate in 'go on' as he passes. "That's already three, Vakarian!"

Deciding not to explain to Reguix, who is lost without knowing the two of them have always had a running tally of kills, Jane motions with her hand to move out to the sound of a charging, roaring Krogan. Rushing to get this cure released as soon as possible, before _more_ can go wrong, they climb up into the arena just as more Reaper forces are deployed, raining down in a shower of rumble and fire.

Immediately upon their drop, she motions Arcanus to move with her as she leaves the Rachni husk they've deemed Ravagers to her mate, his rifle the strongest weapon they have that isn't installed as the Normandy's _cannons_. Running with the older Turian keeping at her back, a barrier around the two of them, she charges into a group firing upon them, flaring blue as she slams into the ground and sends them flying.

The next group is perfect for her to try out her newly acquired shotgun, Arcanus firing his own weapon among the fray as Garrus is free to cover their six. Raising the Graal, she targets a fast moving Husk and fires, impaling it through the chest and into the rock wall.

"Holy shit. This thing," she says, stunned, and looks at her weapon as gunfire whips past her head. "… Is fucking awesome!"

"Jane, focus."

She snaps back to the battlefield and throws a shockwave, sending a group of Cannibals into the sky for Garrus and Arcanus to pick off. Before their bodies even land, she rounds up her squad and begins to move forward and out of the pit of the decrepit arena.

Getting out on higher ground and into the open was a bad decision, she now admits, as she sees, as if in slow motion, the Reaper's glowing 'eye' open and take aim. She has just enough time to dive out of the way of the incoming beam, but the bridge that was already crumbling under their feet practically vaporizes with how it crumbles and sends them crashing down.

Tumbling down lands them in a pile of limbs and armor, groaning and stumbling back to their feet. She is helped up by a Turian on top of her that she doesn't immediately pay attention to thanks to the dust in her lungs and eyes, realizes moments later that it's Arcanus thanks to the camouflage armor. Coughing some of the dust from her lungs, she helps her mate up, seeing how he's favoring his left arm in a definite sign that his wounds are bothering him.

Not that he'd admit it to her in the middle of a fight, but she asks anyways, "Everyone good?"

"Did we just get shot by a Reaper?" he asks as he hands over her fallen, new favorite once modded, shotgun.

"Good thing it doesn't have your marksmanship, huh, Garrus?" He shakes he head as they rush to take cover behind what seems like that last bit of cover that the structure will provide, before them nothing but open space with bare pillars. "Shit… looks like this used to have a ceiling, but we aren't going to be so lucky. I doubt Arcanus can keep a barrier up against a Reaper blast-"

"It is a safe assumption."

"-so here's what we'll have to do." She takes a deep breath and looks at them. "How are you in track?"

"What," Garrus tilts his head, then trills when his eyes widen in realization. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am. Arcanus, you in?"

"I do not have a choice," he deadpans with a glance out across the field.

"That's the spirit. Garrus? We might be safer spreading out across the pillars, keep it from targeting just one of us at all times."

"Dammit, Jane," he growls and rubs his head, nodding. "Arcanus is right, we have no choice. Let me lead, then Reguix, then you."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"Because you're shorter, have shorter legs, so you don't have as long as strides, you are out in the open longer. Don't fight me on this and just do it."

She's left a bit speechless as his outright demand she listen, but she knows his reasoning, the urgency. Nodding, she watches as he holsters his rifle and sprints out. She can't help the held breath when the Reaper takes aim and, only when it misses, releasing it in a relieved sigh. It's at that sound that his voice comes over the comm.

"Don't hesitate, just run!"

She barely waits for Arcanus to go left before she sprints to the right, the three of them sliding behind covers as they cross left and right down the bridge. Reaper blasts fly over her head as she ducks into exploding cover, the damn thing seeming to never need time to charge up its weapon before it's targeting another of them and trying to send them into an ashy oblivion.

When they come to a chokehold, there nowhere to go but a straight away with no cover whatsoever and a giant Reaper 'staring' them down, ready to fire the moment they peek over cover, she looks to Garrus in 'any more ideas?'. She's close to calling on any entity that will listen for some sort of smart idea when they hear weapons fire and look into the sky to see, astoundingly, the remaining of Artimec Wing.

"Commander, this is Artimec Wing. We'll try to give that Reaper something else to shoot at!"

Standing up to watch the Reaper's shutters close at the onslaught, Jane smirks and, even if they can or can't hear her, says, "You, sir, are a scholar and a saint." She turns to her squad and jerks her head forward. "Let's move!"

Dodging Reaper feet and forces, they make it to the first Hammer with little, figuratively, resistance. It's only when they move to the second that they run into difficulty.

Difficulty, as in three giant Brutes in their path and dead set on stopping _her_ from getting to the second Hammer. No matter where she moves, she is targeted and chased out of cover and into another while her squad tries to take them out, distract them long enough to give her a chance at throwing some of her own offense out.

Seeing little chance to do anything but run, she gets an amazing, in her mind anyway, idea. With no way to talk to him personally, she opens her comm. "Garrus, get your ass to that Hammer while I distract these fuckers! We'll watch you're back."

Before he answers, he fires into the back of the creature closing on her and sends it down with a crash of its body slamming to the ground. "Arcanus, watch my wife with your life," his voice growls over the comm and, not a moment later, she feels the presence of another in her cover.

A glance shows it's the merc leader beside her, providing the barrier she needs to be able to turn back on their approaching hostile and fire, sending spikes into the fused on Turian head. It makes shrill growls of what she assumes is pain with each spike and, just as it's about to try and sweep its cannon to send them flying, it makes a mechanical scream and falls.

"One down, one to – shit…" Their last Brute has given up interest in her and started at the last Hammer, trying to catch up with Garrus as he climbs up onto a perch to hold his own. "Arcanus, I need a barrier."

"I am behind you, Commander."

Nodding in thanks, she sprints, charging her biotics as her mind focuses on nothing but the feel of energy over her skin, the sight of the Brute, and the sounds of hers and Arcanus' feet as they storm over the field. She doesn't flinch as the Reaper's massive foot slams into the ground beside her, the rubble thrown up bouncing off the barrier, and jumps over the crater it leaves when it moves again. All she is focused on is protecting her mate as she jumps up onto the back of the Brute and places her gun at the base of its head, firing directly into the stem of it cybernetics lining its back.

"Go! We got your six, Garrus!" She yells as she doesn't let up, slamming a new sink in whenever her gun whines from the abuse and holding onto the thrashing beast with all she's got as Arcanus focuses on the lesser husk creatures closing in.

The glorious sound of metal scraping metal and the resounding booming of the Hammer is like music to her ears, the Brute almost seeming to give up as it falls to her onslaught at that very moment. It's only seconds before she hears a sound that has haunted her for years, that still makes her back ache and burn even without the scars, the warbling cry of a Thresher Maw.

She steps back as she watches the Reaper forgo all fight with the fighter pilots and turns to the intruder, thrumming with its own language in response to the closing in Maw. That sound of the ground moving, being forced aside, is more telling of Kalros' arrival than the Reaper's blast into the ground, aiming and firing at the beast beneath the sand and crumbled structures.

In a split second, air heavy with anticipation of all the things that could go horribly wrong, Jane wonders if this is perhaps her stupidest, most dangerous idea yet. What intelligent person brings their very nightmare _to_ them?

She can't question this decision long as, with a loud explosion upward, Kalros bursts through the sand, diving into the Reaper. It's a battle of strength, those below running frantically for cover from the uncontrolled beam of energy, as Maw and Reaper struggle in a fight of strength.

Kalros' body is thrown about, slamming into the barely holding together structure as she thrashes and writhes. With feet, the Reaper is able to throw the Thresher from its sleek metal, crashing into the Shroud with a thunderous crash. Its beam, however, is not as fast as the Mother Maw, as she slithers back into the sand, disappearing.

Where its feet were an advantage then, they are a disadvantage now, as it moves too slow to prepare for Kalros' next attack. She flies from ground again, this time slamming the Reaper in such a way that its cannon is uselessly firing into the sand as she surrounds it, constricting and pulling it down into the Tuchanka soil, into her true domain.

They watch from the safety of the ruins as the last traces of Thresher and Reaper disappear into the sand, Jane releasing a relieved breath that _that actually worked!_ Chuckling in disbelief that they actually pulled off that near insane idea, she barely catches when Wrex speaks over the comm.

"That still only counts as one, Vakarian!"

She sighs and shakes her head, deciding to ignore that little disagreement as she looks to Arcanus. "Go to the truck and wait for us. Garrus and I will meet up with Mordin in the Shroud."

He nods and double times it back should Wrex need assistance and she and Garrus rush to the Shroud. Even with the massive Reaper gone, there could still be straggling husk forces. They don't find anything but a frantically working Solus, quickly trying to access and repair the systems of the Shroud.

Yet, things are never so easy for them, is it?

The Shroud is falling apart, coming down from its fray with a giant Thresher Maw's collision, and something tells her that it something like administering a cure won't be as simple as pressing a button down on this level. What that _does_ mean, she can't force herself to think, can't say even in mind around that screaming 'no… not this. Anything but this'.

"Mordin. Is the cure complete?" Garrus must shout over the explosions and thundering of the collapsing Shroud.

"Yes. Loaded for dispersal in two minutes. Procedure aided by assistance. Shepard's assistance invaluable."

Jane shields her face to a flaming piece of debris that comes flying down. "Fuck… just tell me you can administer the cure."

Mordin shakes his head, and it's all she needs to know to have her heart sink, her chest starting to ache and knees growing weak. "Control room at top of Shroud tower. Must take elevator up."

"No-"

"Yes. Manual access required." Tapping a last few commands on the console, the lift opens. "Have to counteract STG sabotage. Ensure cure dispersed properly."

"No," she pleads, stepping forward with hands clenching and unclenching. "There has to be another way. You can't just go to your death!"

"No other way. Remote bypass impossible. STG-"

"I don't fucking care! You aren't going," she swallows thickly and steps out of Garrus' worried reach for her arm. "You can't just go to die like that…"

"Shepard, please. Need to do this. Did many wrong, want to do right." He goes to the lift and it's then that she feels an arm wrap around her torso, just as her anger boils, her desperate need to control just one thing in her life sending her in hysterics as she fights.

"What about your tests on seashells?!" she screams, trying and failing to get away from the strong grip, the sad rumbling against her back. "You can't do this! You can't die! I won't let you! I can't-"

Mordin actually smiles, but it doesn't help the pain inside, the helplessness that makes her childish rage boil because she doesn't how else to manage without screaming, without collapsing and giving up. "No need to be upset. Had to be me."

He steps back as the doors slide shut and she wails in a wordless, tearless ache, not hearing his 'Someone else might have gotten it wrong'. She tries to fight the hold on her, to force the traitorous arms off her so she can pound on the glass as she is, instead, dragged from the facility.

How can she let even one more person go in this war? If it doesn't stop now, then who will be next? Herself? Her love? Her children? Where will it end and how will she ever manage to stop death from taking those she cares about more than anything if she can't stop it from taking her friends?


	20. Chapter 20

-Garrus-

He wakes to a soft whimper, not one from his children, but from a much more concerning source. Opening his eyes before his body completely wakes, he watches as his mate pulls his free hand to her lips to hold it there, kissing it and keeping it close in a heartbreaking sort of desperation.

"Jane," he whispers as feeling comes into his hand and he caresses her cheek. She merely sniffs loud as she scoots closer to him, clinging to him as she shoves her lips to his mouth plates, starting to sob.

It hurts to see her like this, to see her breaking, and it's all he can do to hold her, pressing his mouth to hers and running his tongue along her cheeks to catch her tears as he purrs out a soothing song. He doesn't have to ask what has dragged her down into this condition because he knows all too well, the nightmares are projecting her loss of a close friend.

More than that, Mordin was one of the pivotal people in ensuring their unborn children survived. It was only thanks to him that they found Jharen, the woman that gave her life to protect their children from the Reaper attack on Earth and who also singlehanded maintained his wife's and his babies' health through the pregnancy.

"I… I had another…" Is all she says as she buries her face against his chest, but he doesn't need more, simply nodding.

"Jane," he rumbles as he rubs mindless circles over her back, hoping to have the words to ease her pain. "He… he wouldn't want you to feel this pain for him-"

"He questioned the Genophage because of me."

"Jane. No." Leaning back, he lifts her chin and presses his forehead to hers. "He questioned it long before he ever met us. It was only with your help that he was finally able to do something about it, to make a wrong right."

Her face pulls tight in a scowl as she moves from his grip. "What do you know? You think he wanted to die? No one would give their lives-"

"You would."

"-What?"

He sits up with a frown, looking at her face painted in the soft light of the aquarium. "You would sacrifice yourself too. I know you and," he growls at the thought, "as much as I _hate_ that you would, you would die for anyone who asks." Not exactly expecting it, but reflexes faster than his own consciousness, he catches her hand just as she's about to punch him.

"What the _fuck_ would you know?" She practically snarls as she jerks her hand away, but he knows her rage isn't as telling as the tears running down her cheeks anew and she drops her head to stare at her hands in her lap. "You'd die too," she whispers.

A trill leaves in throat in shock as he grips her chin to make her look at him, looking into her eyes. "What did you say?"

"You would die too," she says just as softly, as broken, as she looks back and he realizes the dream wasn't all about Mordin, but about him, as it always seems to be.

"Jane, listen to me." He butts his forehead to hers with a low growl as he says, "I would damn the _entire_ galaxy for you. I meant it when I said I'd give you the galaxy, so if it must burn for you, I will light the fuse myself."

Shoving his plates to her lips, he hears her whine and grip onto his mandibles to keep him there. Their mouths open in tandem, tongues pulling and pushing the other in a fight of needy dominance. He smells the salt of her tears, feels them on his plates, but it only seems to spur her on, make her pull on him, yanking and pushing him as she can't seem to combat all the things she wants to do to him.

The force makes him hot under the plates, sends his own hands over her skin and finally making the decision for her as he grips her rear and hauls her into his lap, tongues never breaking. She moans, a weak sound as her breath trembles, and he tangles his hands in her hair as she breaks away to grind against his open plates, teasing him out with pressure and heat.

He groans when he erects against her, feeling her heat against him as she doesn't stop her desperate movement against him. Licking her tears, he growls in her ear as he buries his head in her neck, the need to just _feel_ her in any way getting to be too much as he feeds off her pain, her aching desire to reaffirm that he's here being matched with his own.

"Jane," he whispers in need and presses his forehead to her temple, kneading her rear, and can't manage words, only a pained keen as his own mind runs through all the 'what if's.

Her gentle hand wraps around him and lines the two of them up, her heat slowly enveloping him. He swallows her moan, pained from her fears and worries, and whines against her lips as he trembles, using his feet on the bed to lift into her, thrusting slowly as she rises on her knees.

"Never leave me," she whispers, her breath hot against his mouth plates and tears salty as she speeds up, moves uncoordinated and frenzied.

He keens at the agony in her voice, his own lungs burning in the want to cry alongside her at the thought of losing her, and her demands softly, "Never die for them. Never." Moaning, he tangles his hands in her hair and makes her look him in the eyes. "I can't live without you."

She cries out as she arches, sobbing as her walls clench and constrict around him, urging him to join. He does, groaning as he buries he head against her breasts and pulses, twitching with each spurt into her. Both of them tremble through their aftershocks, panting and clinging to the other as they don't move an inch.

Arms wrapped around her, he whines and looks into her eyes, needing her to see all the things he can't tell her, can't ask in this war. He can't ask her to promise him that they will make it out of this, can't turn their demands into actual action because they have no control over what this war will take from them. All he can do, is hold her through the pain and loss and pray to Spirits he doesn't believe exist that it remains the soldiers _around_ them that fall.

"I dreamed of you," she finally says long after his body has withdrawn from her, neither of them moving during the entire time. "You… and the kids."

 _She means the children that her mind envisions as the twins,_ he thinks as he hums and rubs her back, letting her continue, even when he doesn't know if he wants to know more. The last time she dreamt of him, she talked of his form being that of a husk of his people, his features distorted by Reaper tech.

"Mordin was there, singing like the fucking _pied piper_ , as he led all three of you through the damn fog." Sighing, she lays her head on his shoulder, hand running over his scarred shoulder and broken cowl. "I could see the sadness in your eyes, even if you couldn't stop following his call, and… and I knew there was some part of you in there."

He frowns and holds her tighter, showing her that he's here, right here with her and not in her dreams. It doesn't seem to stop her words, but her hand sliding up his scarred neck seems to be a good sign of her coming back to terms with reality. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Garrus. I may be the one everyone is looking to in this war, but you're the one carrying _me_."

"And I'll continue to carry you through this war. These people may need you for this war, but _I_ need you because I love you." Purring, he pulls her into a tender kiss. "I can't tell you what will become of us, but you can be sure I will be with you every step of the way… and you can be sure I'll be the one to take the final shot."

He smirks at her slight glare, taking it as a win over her own mind's ability to destroy her from within, and chuckles when she soon snorts dismissively. "You won't be fast enough to get the shot."

"What's that? You mean how I was fast enough to activate the second Hammer while you and Arcanus were playing with the Brutes?"

Having her smack him lightly is better than any verbal response in the universe as it shows that he's done what he set out to do, made her forget the nightmare at least for a time. That, at least, managed, he lets her climb off him and hand him a discarded piece of clothing to clean his plates from his own seed as she does the same to her groin and thighs.

Getting up, he goes to the crib and purrs at the dual set of eyes looking up at him. "Good morning, little ones," he says with a chuckle as he leans down and picks up Damocles, Jane right beside him to take Cassia in her own arms. "I think it's time we feed them _before_ they start crying."

"Now that's probably the most diplomatic thing I've heard yet," she says as she gently rocks their daughter in her arms and he moves to the small crate they've turned into a baby supply storage under the bed, grabbing two containers of food. "Don't you agree, Cassia?"

The baby simply coos to that and he chuckles, sitting down beside her on the couch. He lays their huffing son in his cowl to open both containers and hands her one, rumbling at the smile in thanks he gets.

Jane starts to feed with her fingers, something she won't be able to do very soon once they start having their teeth come in, but he doesn't bother telling her that now, enjoying the happiness on her face as she makes soft noises to whoever she feeds as they suckle her fingers. He, however, doesn't have the fingers for that, what with his talons and all, so he settles for feeding Damocles with the spoon that comes with each container for convenience when purchasing in bulk for transport as they have.

Once the babies are fed, bathed, and clothed, they head down to the CIC to check on the Normandy's location relative to the Citadel. The sooner they arrive, the sooner the Primarch's critically injured son can get some medical treatment that isn't just something to stabilize him for a transfer they were unable to manage at the time. He also couldn't, admittedly, look Victus in the eyes without the thought that maybe there could have been a better outcome to his son's mission than dragging his son back, battered and burned.

The sight of nearly all the crew having found their way up to this deck speaks well to their arrival at the Citadel, this type of crowd only appearing when the airlock is mere moments from opening and allowing everyone to take Jane's order of Shore Leave.

"Hey, there's the baby chiquita and chiquito. Leave it to Scars and Lola to _sleep in_."

Garrus chuckles at the approaching marine. "You're jealousy is showing, Jimmy."

"Jealous? Of you? Nah…" He grins at their son and playfully tucks a knuckle under his chin. "You taking these little niños onto the Citadel?"

"That'd depend on the in-laws," Jane answers with a chuckle.

"Which means yes," Garrus adds, knowing his sister would kill him if he didn't ask her and that his father, now, is more than willing to take care of them while they deal with issues on the station. "I think Sol and dad would be more than happy to see them."

"Great! That means you guys can meet me tonight at Purgatory. Drinks on you!"

He disappears with the departing crowd before either of them can protest and leaves them both shaking their heads. "He's _your_ crew, by the way."

She snorts and smirks at him. "Yeah, I have all the fun crew while you have, let me think, right, none."

"So mean," he says in mock hurt with even a false trill that their son tries to learn to mimic. "See? You even upset my son."

Chuckling, she kisses first Damocles' head, then his own cheek. "You're such a shit, but you're my shit." Hearing the lift approaching this level, they step aside to let the occupant out. When the doors open to reveal the Primarch, they both nod in greeting. "Sir."

"At ease, you two." He rumbles and steps out of the lift. "And, in fact, I came to you for a personal matter. Can we speak in private?"

They nod and Jane leads to the Conference Room, the two of them confused as to what personal matter is. Sure, the only thing that's probably occupying what little time Victus has when not acting as the Primarch is spent worrying over his son, but he doesn't know what else two soldiers can do for him. He's also a bit ashamed to admit that he hates being constantly reminded of how much better off he was after than mission from the father of the man who had the other side of the spectrum.

"I wanted to thank you both, as a man who didn't know if the alliance with the Krogan was even possible and was at a loss if it didn't work," Victus says as he looks between them, into their eyes. "I now see why it seems all the worlds' leaders seem so lonely. It is not easy being at the top of the chain of command, with no one to turn to take the burden of command, but the two of you seem to have the other in this. I think that might very well be a determining factor in this war." He takes a deep breath and looks at the ground as he rubs his fringe, vocals keening softly. "I also… need to thank you, Garrus, for doing what you did. Without you, I would have lost the chance to make amends with my son before…"

Even without needing to hear the rest, Garrus' heart drops, blood going cold. He sees his wife clench her eyes shut as she drops her head, hands pulling their daughter closer to her chest and he has to admit he does the same with the baby in his own hands.

Tarquin Victus didn't make it, and it hurts, like a deep ache, to know that he failed. No matter what he had done, a man that was thrust into a position of responsibility he should have never been in has died one of the worst possible deaths he could imagine, filled with an agony he only knows part of from his own injuries now and nearly a year before.

"Adrien, I…"

"It's alright, Garrus," Victus supplies with a weak voice and deep keen of sadness. "I am proud of my son and he will be forever remembered in the annals of the Ninth Platoon… but even more, I was able to say my goodbyes, to repair damages done years ago. You gave me that. And I… thank you."

Rumbling in sympathy, he almost doesn't see his wife move as she goes to the Primarch and hugs him with her free arm. The man trills softly in surprise, but accepts the human gesture, gently splaying his hands over her back. Going to him, Garrus lays a hand on Victus' shoulder, gently turning him to hug him too, if a bit awkwardly with two full grown cowls _and_ a child needing to be avoided and cared for.

After they break, Victus nods weakly, keen still in Garrus' ears, but the man's expression more composed, a better one to be seen on the Primarch and, even if odd considering, it's something Garrus knows he'd want to be seen as instead of a broken man. Victus will mourn alone, when he is free of the burdens of power, and they have, hopefully, ensured that he has his peace from prying eyes long enough to find that solitude.

"Thank you. Both of you."

"Always, Victus," Jane assures with a comforting smile. "Go knowing you are a friend to us as well as an ally." Looking to Garrus, her smile shifts sadder as she motions the door, receiving a nod in silent answer.

"Take all the time you need, Adrien," he says with a comforting rumble as they leave, letting him have a moment of quiet before he moves on to wherever this war may force him.

They are quiet, lost in their own thoughts and motions of soothing the little ones, as they exit back into the CIC, now mostly devoid of crew. It's for the best, really, as he's sure neither of them can handle a decent conversation after learning of Tarquin's fate, not after all their efforts earlier to try and distance themselves from it in order to function.

He doesn't know what to do know, doesn't know the words that will help her forget, once again, that there isn't a war going on, that there won't be death. Humans have always had the idea of saving every last individual in a war, that success was measured in the numbers of those left, but he wasn't, just doesn't know how such a thinking is healthy.

Although, maybe it's less trying to save everyone and just trying to save _those she cares about_ that is tearing Jane apart. He can't lie and say she'd have hugged anyone who came to her with tales of lost love ones, but perhaps with the weight of Mordin's death now on her shoulders, she is taking death of any kind harder. That, however, doesn't lend well to what will continue to happen in this war, what will become of those she holds as close friends and confidants.

"Jane-"

He's interrupted by the elevator arriving, a saddened Chakwas stepping out. Head down, she nearly runs into them before stopping at the last second. "Oh, Garrus, Shepard. I'm sorry. I…"

"We know," Jane explains with a sympathetic frown. "I take it you're heading onto the Citadel for supplies?"

"Actually, yes. But Shepard, can I ask something of you?"

"What is it?"

She frowns and wrings her hands. "The condition and unfortunate passing of the Lieutenant has made be begin to reevaluate the situation of the Normandy's MedBay. Without another doctor aboard, it may prove difficult to ensure the health of all of the crew with the frequency of your missions."

"Do you have any ideas?"

"I don't, unfortunately, but I do have a way to 'buy' a doctor from Huerta, so to speak." She hands over a datapad with a list of medical supplies. "I've gone through our inventories and found that we have an excess of supplies to treat contagion, exposure, and malnutrition. The hospital can use these supplies to better care for the refugees, so perhaps you may be able to broker a trade with a charitable doctor."

Jane chuckles and looks at him with a slight smirk, though he has no clue why. "I might just know a charitable woman who might assist."

"Thank you, Commander," Chakwas smiles slightly and heads back into the lift.

"Okay, what is so funny? Who are you thinking?"

"Commander," Traynor interrupts as she walks down the gangway towards them. "I was just about to leave, but Garrus' father is at the airlock. Should EDI let him in?"

Garrus chuckles at the fact that the anger between the Vakarians was so thick that even the Comm Specialist is unwilling to just let it back it. Nodding, he grabs the secret carrier and moves to follow Jane out.

"Good work, Traynor," Jane says with a smirk at pat on the woman's shoulder. "We'll take it from here. Now get your ass off my ship."

"Aye, aye, ma'am."

Getting out of the airlock with the babies in their carrier, they find his father waiting outside beside a rented skycar and checking his Tool, probably the time if he knows Titus Vakarian. They approach just as he looks up and the complete lack of ire in his father's face still manages to surprise him.

Instead, the older man stands upright from his lean against the car and comes to them, humming with his hands politely held behind his back. "I had heard that the Normandy was docking earlier this morning." Looking between them, he adds, "I also heard that a deal was finally brokered between the Alliance, Hierarchy, and Krogan?"

Normally, Garrus would be ready to defend such actions, but the lack of judgment in the words cuts any argument away. His father isn't questioning to lay down judgment, but asking out of the same curiosity that he'd expect from the man that had had such a pivotal role in ensuring Garrus had prepared their people _at all_.

"It's true, dad. The Krogan are helping to regain ground on Palaven and our Fleets are going to aid Earth."

"The Krogan? How did the Primarch manage that?"

"By curing the Genophage," Jane explains as his father trills and looks between them for the real answer.

"You aren't joking," he asks in deadpan and they both nod. "Spirits… And the Primarch agreed?"

"Dad," Garrus intones with a slight hum of plea not to push the topic and ruin the, so far, pleasant meeting. "I'll explain one day when it's not so fresh, but Primarch Victus _did_ agree and, don't worry, the Krogan leaders are people we trust."

His father rumbles a moment before nodding, letting it go as he instead looks at the bag and quietly says "Jane," turning completely to her, he ducks his head slightly, "I was wrong to misjudge you and your fidelity towards my son, that I didn't believe the legitimacy of your children's genetics until I had to have proof. I had already spoken to Garrus about this, but you deserve the same." His vocals drop into sincerity and Garrus smiles at seeing his father finding it so much easier now that the barrier of the initial apology was overcome. "I apologize, Jane."

Smiling, his mate steps forward without saying anything and takes his hand, laying her other over it in a very Turian way of showing care, much like a hug would be for humans. _I like hugs better, now that I think of it…_

He can still tell that there is some discord in his father's thoughts over the direction the two of their lives have taken, but Titus accepts the gesture and doesn't yank his hand away, so it's a step in the right direction. The three of them may always have tension between them, but the fact that they're trying now has to count for something.

Leaving the babies in the safe hands of his father - that being the one thing Garrus is _sure_ of - they head towards Huerta with datapad of supplies in hand and hopes that whoever Jane is considering actually will agree. They can't afford to have something has big as what happened at that bomb site reoccur, now with only _one_ doctor aboard to tend to the wounded, as that would prove more disastrous that the gunfire they find themselves in every day.

When they arrive, Jane takes the lead to her exact target in mind and Garrus is left to do nothing but follow blindly. Blind, that is, until he recognizes the woman that Jane like to relentlessly tease him with. At least, that is when she's not outright seething in possessiveness. _This should prove interesting_.

"Commander Shepard," a heavily accented, according to his translator's difficulty deciphering the words, voice says as they approach the red headed doctor. "It's good to see you again- Garrus? Is that you?" Doctor Michel smiles wide and comes to him, hugging him – and apparently ignoring the way his go still or how Jane narrows her eyes in a glare. "Oh my goodness. You've been injured."

"Uh, yeah." He lifts a hand to his scars and scratches them a bit in confusion, not really knowing if 'you've been injured' is just a polite way of saying 'you've been scarred for the rest of your life', but continues. "Hello, Doctor."

"When I heard the Commander was once again on the Normandy to fight the Reapers, I had hoped you would be there too."

" _Actually_ ," Jane adds and he sees that, no, that rage hasn't died down, but she is keeping it at bay for this purpose. It's better than he would be, considering his own nature, but she's right even without having to say it, they need to swallow grudges and get the best they can. Michel looks like she fits that position from the illustrious designation of head physician. "I remember you speaking of how you were worried about the refugees and your supplies. We're here to offer you a deal."

Stepping forward, he hands Michel the datapad of supplies and watches her eyes scan it, brows moving in confusion, but Jane elaborates. "The Normandy can use another doctor of high caliber to work alongside Doctor Chakwas. We're willing to donate all these supplies to the hospital for you to come with us."

"I'm honored you'd consider me," she hands the pad back, "but I have responsibilities here."

Garrus, admittedly, adds a bit of a rolling rumble to his voice to help ease his words. He knows he'll get a stern talking to, by way of a fist if that slight twitch of his mate's face is anything to go by, but he is willing to accept it to convince the doctor. "Doctor, the Normandy is the center of the war effort, one of the biggest assets to winning against the Reapers. If we fail, all could be lost. We can save hundreds, or we can save millions with your help."

"Well," she says as her voice changes in pitch, her eyes looking around her apparent office. "Our staff _is_ excellent." He rumbles and nods in 'keep going', ignoring the frustrated huff behind him that most likely means his mate is debating whether or not this is _really_ that good of an idea. "I believe the Presidium would be in good hands." Michel smiles up at him, her cheeks slightly red and he decides this woman won't survive if this keeps up, devising a plan. "I'll pack my bags and head to the Normandy."

"D-24," his wife snaps off as they step outside to wait in the hall. "Dammit, this was a stupid fucking idea."

"I don't know. She's a good doctor apparently. I mean, two years and she went from that clinic in the Wards to head physician." He glances down at the glare his wife is sending the woman before looking back up, waiting for the right moment to, without words, make the situation known before Jane does something horribly uncalled for to the mostly innocent doctor.

"Can you at least ogle her another time?"

Chuckling at her pout, he catches the doctor's eyes in his visor and makes his move, caressing Jane's hair to get her attention. When she does look up, he leans down and presses his mouth to her lips, swallowing her surprised muffle of words as his tongue slides past her lips. She relaxes immediately, her hands framing his face, but even with her fingers in the way, his visor picks up all he needs to know.

Jane's possession over him is effectively claimed. Although, he wouldn't be against ensuring that if the time comes with something even more obvious.


	21. Chapter 21

-Garrus-

"Commander Shepard, I'm happy you've decided to take up my request for another interview."

It wasn't hard to figure out why Khalisah Al-Jilani asked them to all meet at the embassy offices. She wanted to talk about the newest, galaxy shaking development in the war, the Genophage Cure.

Garrus isn't surprised that she, of all people, would want a piece of juicy information directly from the source and, thanks to the deal the two women have, Jane was forced to oblige if she wanted Al-Jilani's pull with the public that are looking for any sort of grasp of this war. At least, he considers, he is here with Jane to help deflect the full brunt of the woman's 'reporting'.

"I made a deal, didn't I?" Jane responds as they approach. "How about we get this done and over with? I have quite a few things to take care of."

"No need to be in such a hurry, Commander. I hear this is your _shore leave,_ after all." The woman's lips twitch in a bit of a smirk at the supposed catching the _Commander_ 'enjoying herself on the Citadel in the middle of a war'. "But I believe what's on everyone's minds is only one of your recent activities."

The camera lowers and illuminates his wife's face and he steps into the frame, not wanting Jane to be completely alone in this when Khalisah says, "You've just 'cured' the Genophage, a groundbreaking achievement that will ensure _millions_ of Krogan will start fighting the Reapers. Do you have _anything_ to say to those that fear and believe that humanity has, thus, set the stage for another Krogan Rebellion?"

Crossing her arms, Jane looks straight in the woman's eyes, then the camera. "Humanity hasn't started anything but made an ally of the Krogan. Those you should actually worry about are those who worked to try and undermine every effort to unify the species against the Reapers."

"Care to elaborate?"

"No."

"Are you worried that, once the Krogan are on Palaven or Sur'Kesh, they would just attack the Turians and Salarians anyways? What's _really_ keeping them from just attacking now that they have what they want? Can they really be trusted?"

"If you have to ask that," Garrus interrupts, "then how do they know _you_ are to be trusted? The Krogan will have their hands full with the Reapers to want to try anything as it is and they know that attacking any other Council race will only destroy any chance they have at rebuilding after the effects of the Rebellions."

"But their breeding-"

"Is not a problem, Al-Jilani. Quit treating the Korgan like varren on a leash and understand that they are just as capable as we are of understanding this war."

Jane smirks at him and nods in agreement before turning back to the reporter. "My mate and partner is right. Wherever the Krogan are deployed, you can be sure that they will fight to the end to defend their allies."

He notices how she doesn't make a point of exactly _where_ Krogan forces would and wouldn't be, of how there won't be a problem of retaliation for the Genophage on Sur'Kesh because they won't _be_ on Sur'Kesh thanks to the Salarians' own Dalatrass. All for the better, though, as speaking the truth would only make it harder for the innocents who don't know the workings of politicians and bureaucracy. It wouldn't be just to bring fear and anger into the already tenuous situation.

"It's good to see that you think so, Commander, as I'm sure there are many who question if curing the Krogan in the middle of an already devastating war was that good of an idea." He notices how Jane sighs through her nose and rubs the bridge of her nose and Al-Jilani must see it too because she transitions quickly. "One last thing, Commander Shepard. There are rumors that Admiral Anderson, one of your biggest supporters during your incarceration-"

He growls and glares at the woman. "How the hell do you know _anything_ about her time on Earth?"

Khalisah actually smirks that time. "A good reporter never tells her most trusted sources-"

He interrupts her by pulling his handgun from his hip, aiming at the shocked and suddenly fearful woman, and growls again. "Try again."

"It was anonymous! I swear!"

"Explain," Jane orders from his side, but he doesn't lower his weapon, not yet.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Al-Jilani says, "I was just sent an anonymous correspondence that said you had been incarcerated in an Alliance base, they didn't say why, but just said that you were 'being treated better than you should because you were in with the Admirals'. I promise you, I don't know who it was from and I was unable to track it back to the source with my limited resources."

He lifts his weapon and fires at the camera, destroying the entire interview by the reporter's shrill gasp of distress. In an instant, the sights return to their original target. "Where is this message?"

"I don't have it anymore. I tried to make copies, but it was gone."

"Means whoever sent it was good, real good. And we have no damn clue where to start looking." Shaking her head, Jane goes back to rubbing her head. "Fuck. This interview's over. _Don't_ repeat what you know from that correspondence or you'll have him to deal with."

Khalisah sighs, but nods. "Yes, Commander. I won't speak of it to anyone."

Waiting until the woman rushes off with the scraps of whatever she can manage of her camera, he slowly lowers his weapons with a growl. "Who the hell leaked that information? I'll kill them."

"Easy," his mate soothes with a hand on his arm. "I has to be one of the Alliance soldiers from the base. Maybe out of fear? Look, it must have been a half-assed message because Al-Jilani, of all people, who have had a field day with some of the other shit that happened on that base. No, I'm thinking it's either a soldier or a reporter from one of the hearings."

"You can't honestly be accepting that there's a possibility that your imprisonment will come out."

"I don't really care right now. I seriously doubt that, at a time like this, people will jump at the opportunity to drag me through the shit when I'm running the show. Plus, we have Liara in our pocket to run interference on what the Alliance doesn't censor themselves."

"You put a lot of trust in Liara's abilities." He rumbles and holsters his weapon. "She seems preoccupied with the Crucible."

"You worry too much. It's not that big a secret that I was incarcerated. What's more important is that no one knows about what else happened _and_ Khalisah didn't even ask or _know_ about my pregnancy at the time or she'd have asked who the dad is and where the baby is." She smiles to him and takes his hand. "So, please, be calm."

Sighing, he nods. "I will try, but you can't blame me for worrying for the worst."

"I don't. Come on, we have shit to do before we can relax."

He rumbles and nods, following her out of the private office that Al-Jilani had reserved for the interview and into the crowded main lobby. It's then that his Omni-Tool lights up with an important alert he's actually been waiting for since Menae. Stopping with a release of Jane's hand that has her turning to in with a question in her eyes, he explains.

"When I got to the Normandy after Menae, I set up a program to scan the Hierarchy refugee and injured solider transport records for any of my remaining Task Force. I've been waiting since then for _anything_ and I just received a confirmation that one of my men has made it off Palaven and onto the Citadel."

She smiles and comes to look at his Tool with him, so he translates it to Standard for her. "Corporal Junius Tactus?"

He nods with a rumble and closes his Omni-Tool when she steps back. "I'd like to head down to the Camp to see his condition later."

She shrugs and takes his hand, leading him towards the lift since they no longer have any reason to stick themselves with possibly the worst of the galaxy in those that refuse to see and acknowledge the impending doom both before and after it was destroying everything around them. "I don't see any reason why you have to stick with me for now. I just need to…" She sighs sadly and reaches into her pocket for an OSD. "I need to give this to a soon to be very distresses woman."

 _The Krogan's last message to his mate,_ he concludes with a hand over hers. "Are you sure you want to go alone?"

"I need to do this," she explains as she tightens her hand around the OSD before pocketing it. "I need to because I know who these people are. We helped them rekindle, remember?" At his confused rumble, not quite able to remember every person they meet like she can. "The Krogan citing poetry?"

"Oh… damn. And you want to do it alone? Why?"

"Because she's a widow. What good would it be to walk up right next to _my_ spouse and tell her hers is gone?" She smiles in reassurance and he considers that she must have already felt the pain of this death that wasn't in her control already, played through it in her nightmares. "Don't worry, Garrus. I know what you're thinking and, yes, I can do this... It hurts, but I need to be there as a woman who knows love and not a soldier passing on a dying message."

"At least take Liara," he pleads as he calls the elevator. "I know she was wanting to spend some time with you off duty, maybe talk about the Crucible over a drink." But he knows it's really because even the young Asari can see the wear and tear on his mate, hopes to cheer Jane up in maybe a way only a woman's friendship can. He'll take any help from a different perspective, anything, to keep the love of his life above the floodwaters.

Sighing, she nods. "Yeah, you're ri-"

"Excuse me," a human man in a formal suit approaches them, a sadness to his forced neutrality in the way his eyes look over them. "You're Commander Shepard, right?" She nods, frowning in confusion at the obvious politician's approach. "I am Ambassador Dominic Osoba. We have never met, but you helped me find…" he finally frowns and ducks his head, "You provided me peace from my son, Bilal's, passing. You have provided my family a bit of peace by sending me his dogtags from Benning. It's more than anyone else had done. Words cannot describe my gratitude. Thank you."

"Uh," Jane looks to him quickly for assistance, but he admits he's just as lost. They never _went_ to Benning, let along found and transported a man's dogtags. _What is going_ _ **on**_ _?_

"I'm sorry, Ambassador," he supplies while his mate quickly recovers. "But you must be mistaken."

Nodding, she takes over, "Trust me, we offer our sympathy and are grateful you can properly put your son to rest now that you know, but we aren't the ones who brought you in information. The Normandy has never been to Benning."

"If not you, then someone using your identity, Commander." Osoba frowns in confusion and hands them a datapad, the words on it a short note of condolences followed by a name, Commander Jane Shepard.

That shocks them and leaves them speechless for a moment, the only sound his slightly irritated growl. Why anyone would go out of their way to assume his mate's identity and, at least not commit crimes or the like, is something he doesn't care to know for it won't stop him from seeking retribution. No one takes his mate's name and uses it to fit their whim, claim ownership of the work she's done so they can, what, have some sort of sick enjoyment out of being someone they aren't?

"Sir," Jane starts after the pause. "I see here that this person was asking for 'the reward', did you pay them?"

"Not yet, Commander. They hadn't left a return address on the package. I was expecting them to reveal themselves or send me another package in case they had forgotten to include their extranet address, but when I saw you…"

"You thought 'why not personally tend to it'." Handing the datapad back, she shakes her head. "We cannot take any reward, Ambassador. If this imposter messages you, I hope you will alert C-Sec. Something just isn't right."

"I…I see. I'm sorry to have bothered you, Commander Shepard." He turns with a frown, stopping to look back. "Whoever it was, I hope they do not continue to have to hide behind another's name. I'd like to thank them."

She nods. "I'm sure you'll get the chance."

Watching him go, and the lift behind them open, she motions Garrus to back up into the elevator cabin. Once the doors close, she groan in frustration and looks at him. "What the fuck was that? Is this a fucking thing now? To pretend to be me?"

"I don't know," he growls in return, scowling at the thought. "But I think we should have Liara keep an eye out for any more uses of your name, see if we can track down these people."

"Agreed." Sighing, she shakes her head as her shoulders slump. "Fuck, I don't know what's going on anymore. It used to be that people didn't want anything to do with me and now they can't get enough of me. I miss only having to worry about Conrad Verner."

That actually makes him chuckle, helps ease the anger on his shoulders as he relaxes. "I think the human saying is 'speak of the Devil and he shall appear'? Whatever a 'Devil' is."

She snorts and raises a brow. "Where are you getting these human sayings?"

"The crew?" He chuckles and shrugs. "Might have been Adams or Copeland. I can't remember exactly."

"It's good to see you opening up, Archangel." She smirks at the jab to his old tendency to keep to either the Main Battery or their Loft.

Shrugging, he rumbles with a smirk as they lift slows to a stop at the Presidium, where they will go their own ways in attempt to get done with their duties faster. "You don't always complain about the time I spend in the Battery, especially not when you're in there with me."

"What can I say, I like giant guns to play with and you always seem to have the biggest." He chuckles and leans down to kiss her before they separate, she to the markets and he to a skycar terminal to find transport to the docks turned refugee camps.

When he arrives, he heads straight to the Turian designated camp in search for Tactus. They two weren't really friends in the sense that they had seen the other outside of their duties, but they were more than subordinate and commanding officer as most in the Hierarchy was. Garrus was that way with all the men and women in his Task Force, something he learned from his time with Jane.

Still, even as close colleagues, he wants to know what has happened to his Force even if it will most likely not be close to the best outcomes. As the front of the Reaper resistance, they would have been in the front lines, beside the heads of the chain of command in attempts to guide Generals through the warzone that was their planet, their home.

Knowing Tactus, Garrus isn't all that surprised to find the Turian with violet paints, even with a sling and cast around his arm, directing the more able of the refugees. As he approaches, he can hear what is being said, what, exactly, is going on.

"Inventory what we have here and we can begin to ration out medical supplies to the medical outposts throughout the Docks. I don't want to hear about refugees across the Docks trying to find their way over here because their medical tent doesn't have proper supplies. And if we're missing something, set up a trade with one of the other medical leads," he adds as he turns, eyes widening as he recognizes Garrus. "Spirits, Garrus?"

Tactus grins as Garrus chuckles and comes to him, shaking his hand in good will after everything they've been through. "Taken up your place as supply regulation?"

"Someone has to do it. C-Sec doesn't have a handle down here and there's no way there's any kind of order in this chaos. That leaves too many people unattended for my liking."

"Logistics always was your better skill," Garrus says with a smirk that gets him a mock glare. "What happened to the arm? Fall out of a shuttle again?"

"Laugh all you want and, what do humans call it, Karma will bite you in the ass?"

"And I'll fall out of a shuttle or injure my arm?" He lifts a brow plate.

Tactus shrugs with a shake of his head. "Spirits if I know. I just know the saying and some of what it means." He straightens and looks over the new, dark blue armor. "But I'm more interested in hearing what happened to you. Last we heard, you and Primarch Fedorian were trying to get off Palaven but were downed on Menae."

He nods with a rumble and explains, "You're right. Fedorian didn't survive and, with the comms as they were, it took longer than it should have to find the new Primarch. By then, word of the War Summit Fedorian ordered made it out and, well, that's when Commander Shepard-"

"You're mate," Junius interrupts with a knowing smirk and Garrus wonders how far that interview made it through the galaxy. Not that he minds.

"Yes, my mate." He hums in 'be quiet and let me explain' and the man pulls his mandibles tight at the slight reprimand with no real bite. "She arrived by the time we got word from Command that Adrien Victus was the new Primarch. The War Summit didn't go as planned and, long story short, we cured the Genophage."

"Well… that's not really something for casual conversation," he says in stunned surprise.

"No, not really." He chuckles as he follows Tactus to sit on a crate turned bench, choosing to stand as his friend takes a seat. By the tired look of him, he probably hasn't slept, or even sat, since he's arrived. "Junius," he says with a low hum, looking him in the eyes. "What happened to the others? Do you know?"

Shaking his head, he says, "I don't know what happened to anyone but Nemos." He frowns at the name and ducks his head. "We were transporting a shuttle to an evacuation ship when one of those damn worm necks hit us. The shuttle dropped out of the sky like a rock and only myself and a few others made it out. We ended up here."

"Damn." Hira Nemos was an excellent soldier, thought out of the box like so few Turians, and it was a shame to see someone like that go down not fighting, but falling out of the sky in a damaged shuttle. "We're losing too many to this war."

"And from the sounds of it, it looks like you and yours are the only ones who know what to do to end it."

Garrus nods somberly, not sure how that's going to be possible, but doesn't say anything to contradict him. Looking around, he sees the bustle and busy movements of Tactus' men moving about, trying to do as he ordered, to make sense of the chaos down here among so many with nothing, nowhere else to go.

"I should leave you to tending to your new duties," he says as he steps out of the way. "With your skills, I know you can make some sort of order down here, Tactus. Heal up and do what you can."

"And you do what you and Commander Shepard do best," Junius responds with a chuckle, being handed a datapad to look through. "Take care, Garrus. Spirits guide you."

"And you, as well."

He leaves the small alcove and begins to head to the main hub of Turian communications to check up on any word from Palaven when he sees Javik, of all people, down by the memorial wall, staring at the images of those lost or missing. Curious –and confused, he'll admit – he goes to him. "Never figured you for one to visit the refugees, Javik."

"I do not understand this 'refugee' concept. In my cycle, you either fought or you were used as a distraction for those who could to plan their attacks." Four eyes scowl as they look over the Docks, judging every living being here, Garrus knows. "Your people should not harbor the weak and useless. They eat food and use supplies better suited for those who fight."

Sighing, Garrus shakes his head and wonders how Jane can manage any sort of conversation with this man. Even James, it seems, has a liking to him and, though Garrus doesn't necessary dislike Javik, it's hard to take him seriously when everything is compared to his cycle – a cycle that so obviously failed. "It's not about-"

"Help! She's got a gun!"

He head snaps up at that and he growls, rushing towards the crowd alongside a group of C-Sec officers. Shoving his way through the crowd and ignoring the Officers' warning with an assurance that he's a Spectre able to take care of himself, he makes it to the front of the crowd to find someone he hadn't expected to be holding a weapon to her own head, Yeoman Kelly Chambers.

"Kelly," he nearly whispers, vocals soothing as he holds his hands where she can see.

"Garrus?" Her eyes widen and she starts to cry. "Oh, Garrus… I can't stop it… Every time I close my eyes I see them, _feel_ them touching me."

'Them', the Collectors, the pawns of the Reapers that attacked and abducted the crew to try and melt them down into some kind of Human Reaper. He can understand why something like that could cause such a trauma, can make even the hardest of soldiers suffer the effects of PTSD. Kelly Chambers never stood a chance.

"Kelly, it's okay. We can talk through this, help you."

How does one combat this? How does he talk someone down from ending it all when he himself had attempted it on his own? How would he even begin to help a sufferer of this trauma if he has never felt it, never sought help for his own problems when they occurred?

"No. I don't… I don't think you can. Nobody knows that feeling. I watched people get… get liquidized before my eyes!" She lowers the weapon and he feels the tension at his back somewhat ease, watches the C-Sec officers still with their weapons up.

Now, more than ever, there is no leeway to take chances in such a crowded area. He knows that, for humans, there is supposed to be an effort to talk someone down from suicide, but, for Turians, suicide in a choice only one can make. However, in this situation, there's a fine line between Chambers taking her life and taking another and it's a line that C-Sec won't allow to be crossed. Brutal and inhumane most would claim, but most effective in ensuring the safety of others.

Rumbling, he steps closer, willing to disarm Kelly if he has to. It's the least he can do after she served on the Normandy and kept their secrets quiet once she was no longer under their command. "It's going to be alright. You're right, we don't know that feeling, but there are people you can talk to, who can help you through the pain, the fear."

"I can't, Garrus. I feel them touching me all the time." She rubs her free hand through her hair, whining as her wide eyes scan the crowd of on-lookers. "I thought I could help down here, but all I feel is everyone touching me, their… _hands_ all over me!"

"No one will hurt you here, but if you want away from the Docks, away from all the people, then let me help you to a skycar, out of here." He looks to the people with a growl. "Get out of here under Spectre orders or face the consequences."

Heads duck and whispers pass, but the crowd begins to disperse slowly, like an ocean draining at the pace of a slow trickle. It's still a good enough start as Chambers sighs and drops her head, sniffling as she says, "I… I want to get out. I want… I want to live without fear."

"We can get you that," he assures as he comes to her and stands well from her side, well outside her personal space so that she doesn't feel his 'touch'. "Come on. Let's get you out of here." He looks up to the C-Sec officers and nods in silent assurance that he has the situation handled.

Just as they're lowering their weapons, and just as the crowd is but a few individuals milling about to find their place, he sees a figure that _really_ shouldn't be here at this exact time, this exact situation. Coming to, most likely, gauge the situation and see what the 'primitives' are doing wrong now, Javik scowls at the woman Garrus is trying to keep calm as he crosses his arms and stops before them.

Before Garrus can say _anything_ in any way to get the Prothean to disappear at least this one time, Kelly looks up and everything collapses with her shrill gasp.

Screaming loud enough to make Garrus think his ears will bleed, Chambers whips her cheap, half broken pistol up and, as if in slow motion, he watches as her finger starts to compress the trigger. It's enough of an incentive for the officers still in the area to move to protect even the strange alien and they bring their weapons up, again in a realm of slowed time, and fire.

Reality and time rushes back to normal just as Garrus sees Kelly's eyes widen, red blossom on her shirt, and her gun fall from her hands before her body follows. His ears are still ringing from her voice, but he doesn't need to hear the screams or panicked shouts trying to be calmed by the Officers as he kneels down beside the woman.

Kelly Chambers is dead, gone before her body hit the ground, and it's all he can do to just close her eyes for her. He sighs in defeat at one more life lost to this war, even if not in open battle, and hopes that at least this kind of battle, the fight within, is not something he will have to witness too much more.

As if hearing his darkest thoughts and desperate pleas and knowing the person he thinks of, his tool chimes. Opening it, his voice is flat as he answers. "Vakarian."

"Hey, Scars. You might want to get down here. Lola's taken a liking to the hard stuff and I'm worried she might start a fight with the biggest, baddest Krogan in here. And there's a lot of 'em."

Growling, he stands. "I'll be right there."

Closing the call, he damns this war one last time for what it's done to them all and hopes Jane's simply drinking for shore leave and not, as he fears, trying to forget the past few days of loss she's endured.


	22. Chapter 22

-Garrus-

He finds her fiery flash of red mane in the crowd amongst boisterous laughter and what looks like a crew of Alliance soldiers, sharing drinks and stories. Jimmy is by her side, keeping guard over her less ingenious ideas she often has while drunk, and Garrus reminds himself to get the man drinks one day in thanks for watching over her until he arrived.

Stepping in beside her, he crouches down next to her stool and gently takes the drink of something foul smelling from her hand. The sheer noxiousness of the smell is a better sign of her state that her outward appearance as it tells him all he needs, she's trying to drown something in the strongest drink she'd never have otherwise.

"Huh? Who dun it…?" She looks at her hand and tries to spin around on her stool, leaning precariously enough that Garrus wraps an arm behind her back to hold her. "Garrwus!"

He chuckles and ducks his head to let her kiss him sloppily on the cheek before she topples over. "Having fun, I see?"

She frowns, the cutest over-exaggerated pout on her face, and she shakes her head, making her wobble on her seat. "No," she says as she lays her head against his armor, which can't be comfortable. "'M sad…"

He rumbles with a frown and sets the drink down, lifting her chin to look at him. "You can't stop the effects of the war."

"Too much…" She frowns as if in pain and he nods, understanding. Unable to come up for air before another person they know falls, she is struggling to distance herself and see it logically like she usually would.

Helping her to her feet, he wraps her arm around his waist and his own around her shoulders to help carry her weight as they begin to walk through Purgatory. He gives Vega a nod of thanks for watching over her as they pass on the Lieutenant's way back with more drinks and is thankful nearly all of the patrons are so busy dancing or drinking away their own worries to notice their 'Savoir' having to be practically carried out.

Just as they're about to pass through the dimly lit entrance hall, they walk right past someone he wishes they had seen the last of weeks ago when they dropped the survivors of the Cerberus attack on Grissom Academy, Major Kaidan Alenko. He doesn't immediately recognize him and Garrus watches the man literally preform a double-take before smiling and coming towards them. If not for Jane's state they would have made it out in time, but he is forced to stop when Alenko calls out and stops them.

"I thought that was you two," he says as he comes up and tries to hug Jane, but, thankfully, her stance of being slumped over a Turian that clearly doesn't like the other man's touch dissuades him. "Wow, someone's had one too many." He chuckles with a smile.

"Heyyy," she responds with a drunken smile and snicker. "How's tha hair?"

He's thrown for a moment before recollecting himself and chuckling. "So, I assume you guys heard that Ash might get into the Spectres?"

Jane grumbles something as Garrus narrows his eyes. "You know better than to ask that. Jane was pretty damn clear she hasn't talked to Williams since Mars and _won't_ until the Lieutenant Commander swallows her damn pride and shuts the hell up about our involvement in Cerberus."

The Major frowns, irritation painting his face. "Why do you always have to be such an asshole, Garrus?"

"Garwus right… Ashley stupid." She makes a very rude hand gesture to no one in particular.

"You too, Shepard?" Kaidan shakes his head, crossing his arms. "Why can't either of you be happy or proud that Ash has accomplished so much? She's worked hard, you know, and she deserves to be forgiven for a simple mistake."

"No! Not forgive wit'out so'ry!"

He helps her steady after shoving her hand into the Major's face before explaining, "Jane was questioned every step of the way on Mars beyond all logic."

"You weren't even there, Garrus."

"I was on Horizon. I was there when Jane had no one. I was there when _even you_ questioned her loyalty, so don't you talk to me of letting grudges go, not when both of you couldn't listen to us long enough to see that we were trying to delay this very damn thing," he motions around, meaning the war, "for as long as we can, by any means necessary." Growling, he steps closer to the man blocking their way. "Now either apologize to my wife for or get the hell out of the way before I remove you myself."

"I…" he flounders a bit before rubbing his brow, sighing. "I… I'm sorry, Shepard. Garrus is right, I should have been there to support you guys, even if I couldn't join you. You both were right about the Reapers. Maybe, if people had listen, we wouldn't be so overwhelmed." Jane snorts derisively at the efforts they had done to prepare every and any species to listen. "But I think you should give Ash a chance. I can talk to her, maybe. Convince her to talk through this?"

Garrus rumbles and looks to his wife, seeing if she'll willing. Nodding shakily, she grumbles before hiccupping. "'Kay. I forgive yous." She smiles drunkenly and gives a thumbs up before clinging onto his side. "Wanna go home."

Chuckling, he takes his mate under his arm and leads her past Alenko who has his eyes on his glass, frowning in thought at this conversation. Garrus is sure she might not remember it, but he can easily play it back for her from his visor, make sure she really is as forgiving as she was just now.

Sure, getting Alenko to apologize while she's nearly passing out drunk might not be the most preferred time, but he had to, had to let his aggravation out while the man was insulting them right to their face. At least, he figures, he was more civil than he would have been had he come to them while she was sober and able to hold herself upright. She held him back in all sense of the term this time and he accepted that, deciding it was obviously better than his usual heavy handedness.

Driving her through the Wards towards the Docks, she seems to sober up enough to start talking, staring out the window. "I delivered the message." She sighs and adds, "She is pregnant, you know. And I talked to Liara… they still don't even know how the Crucible is supposed to work. This thing has the power to destroy the Reapers and we expect it not to destroy the system too? What if every soldier on Earth is vaporized? Or if the entire Sol System is?" A laugh falls from her lips devoid of humor. "Would be fitting to go the way of Bahak, wouldn't it?"

He sighs and reaches over to take her hand, not having the words to say to answer the unknown and knowing she doesn't want empty platitudes. Instead, he simply says, "I'll be with you through it all, Jane. Come vaporization or finding out the Crucible is a dud, I'm with you."

She chuckles and looks to him, smiling softly. "You certainly know how to talk to a girl."

Shrugging, he makes a noise deep in his throat. "I aim to please." As they arrive at where the Normandy is, he turns to her when the skycar begins to set itself down automatically. "Jane," he rumbles lightly as he leans over to her, pressing his forehead to hers, "what do you say to you and me taking a night just to ourselves? Dad and Solana have laid claim to the twins the entire Shore Leave, so it's just us, me cheering you up."

"Cheer? You?" She snorts and lifts a hand to his scarred side, causing him to purr and lean into the touch.

"What can I say? Blame the damn mood swings," he responds with a smirk at using the excuse she used to use on their letters for anything violent she had wanted to do to the politicians and idiot reporters back on Earth for those months apart.

"Little shit." Her chuckle dulls the words and turns them endearing as she kisses him and opens her door, stepping out. "Come on. If I heard right, you owe me a night of pampering and attention."

He nods and steps out, walking to her side to talk her hand. She's still a bit unsteady on her feet, but those implants from Cerberus have done their job of filtering out the alcohol in her system as she smiles at him. Either that, or she was faking it which he could believe for the sake that it's like her to rather play drunk and in need of rescue than leave a group of Marines whose final act may very well be drinking with _the_ Commander Shepard as if she were any normal Marine having a good time.

It seems even she is above looking at herself in a purist light, though he knows it's because of this war. Maybe when it's all over, she no longer has to be 'Shepard, Savoir of the Citadel and Paragon of Humanity', whatever that even _means_. When it's all over, perhaps they can both find a place far from those who only see her as an idol and raise their family in the peace of solitude and freedom.

He can't let himself be cynical when thinking of her, can't be himself when he is given the question of odds about their survival as a family. Should he ever allow his darkest fears to manifest or thinks of the reality of their surviving this war, he knows he won't be able to take it, to live with himself even for the short time they have left.

He knows the two of them won't live through this war, can't be the spearhead of this galactic army, and survive against all odds. They have just defied death too many times from him to ever truly fall for the illusion, but it doesn't hurt to have blind, unbelievable hope.

The thoughts running through his mind make him squeeze the small hand in his, too small to be handed the weight of the galaxy to carry alone without him by her side to catch the pieces that slip through her fingers. Come whatever may, he will be here, as he always has been, and no manner of odds will change that. He thinks she knows that as she must read his thoughts in his grip on her hand, her own squeezing back as she smiles up to him, eyes full of all the emotions they can't speak of with so many looking up to them.

Heading for the airlock of the Normandy, they stop at the sight of a Batarian in full armor leaning against the wall casually, reading something on his Tool as he seems to be waiting. He growls and readies himself to step in, never one to trust the species after his long years on Omega added to the fact that many blame Jane for Bahak – due completely to the fact that she took complete responsibility to _his_ decision.

Before he can step forward to get rid of the intruder, Jane stops him and steps up herself, asking, "What the fuck do you want?" with a scowl.

The man chuckles and closes his tool, looking Jane over in light scrutiny. His voice is deep, yet quiet as he says, "The _great_ Commander Shepard. And me without my autograph book-"

"I like to put my special autograph up people's asses… and you brought that," she interrupts as she crosses her arms. "Who the hell are you?"

"Name's Bray. And I'm here on Aria's behalf." He motions the transits, where a gold skycar rests. "Says she's got plans for Omega that involve you."

Garrus steps forward with a growl, not one to come when the 'Queen' calls like some trained varren. "Aria can, how do you say it," he looks to Jane quickly as he remembers, "right, 'shove it'. We don't work for her."

"Maybe not, but even _you_ would know Cerberus controlling Omega is a bad thing." He narrows his eyes at the man with a growl in threat, wondering what he'd have to do to him to make a big enough statement that Aria would listen. "Follow me."

"Like hell we're-"

"Just a talk, Garrus," Jane says as she squeezes his hand. "This isn't her territory, so it's not like she'd get away with trying something with me. Besides," she smirks, "I don't think she'd try something against the two Spectres that are leading the war to save a galaxy even she lives in."

"Just you, Shepard," Bray interrupts with a shake of his head. "Aria only wants to speak with you."

"Then let me quote my husband, she can go shove it."

"Just a talk, Commander. You'll be brought back and, as you said, it's not like we'll do anything stuck inside a skycar with you and have him," he motions the growling Turian, "on our asses."

Jane snorts and chuckles, "Smart." Turning to her, Garrus sees her give him a look that brokers no question. "Stay here while I speak with her. You have my Tool tracked, so if I'm not back in a reasonable amount of time, come find me and you're free to go wild on them."

He sighs as he nods his head, knowing he has no way of saying no, no matter how much he hates everyone just demanding his mate's attention. No worries, he thinks, as he will always pay her back for making him stay behind while she, most likely, goes out to do something crazy.

* * *

He knows he should be more angry than he is about the fact that Aria expects his mate to just get on a ship full of mercs, fly into a station occupied by Cerberus, and fight alone – or that she's _agreed_ – but he can't be, not when he knows she isn't saying anything about the fact that Aria said not to _bring_ allies. Jane may have agreed to the woman's demand, but that doesn't stop him from finding another way on the station.

A way that brings him into the War Room in search of a certain mercenary as Jane gets all she can on the situation from Liara's Shadow Broker network.

Arcanus is speaking to a holographic image of multiple, smaller images of different personnel from the Blue Suns and, while he's willing to wait, he receives a raised hand as the older man speaks. "One moment." He turns back to his Suns. "Yes, Vosque, maintain the image of servitude to Aria T'Loak and I shall allocate the ships I deem substantial to return the station into her power."

_"Understood, sir. I'll begin preparations."_

The connection terminates as Garrus walks down the few steps into the center of the room. "I take it you know of Aria's move on Cerberus."

"I would be detrimental to all involved if I did not. I assume you are here because you will not be allowed to join the Commander?"

"I guess Aria doesn't like the fact of Archangel being back on Omega." Rumbling in thought, he leans against the interface for the War Room. "Look, I know there will be Blue Suns in that fleet, so I'm here to ask you to get me on one of your ships. I need a way on the station and that's the perfect way."

"You _do_ realize you are asking me to allow Archangel on a Blue Suns ship with clear conscious that there will be no one aboard that will seek retribution? That does not seem like a logical decision considering the outcome for myself should your mate find out."

Garrus shrugs dismissively. "I'll wear something that doesn't mark me as Archangel. It's not that hard to find a Blue Sun and take their armor."

"I will act like I did not hear that," Reguix deadpans in reponse. "To save you the effort, I can supply a sufficient armor, though I advise you be aware that you may not find Jane on the station if Cerberus' hold is as extensive as to be believed." He begins to type onto his terminal. "Exit the ship and report to Dock B-87. There will be a ship waiting with a set of armor that should fit you… and do try not to destroy my ship, though that may be an impossible request."

Chuckling, Garrus mock salutes as he heads out with a message to his father and sister to watch after the kids for at least a few more days. Not that he expects the siege and reclamation of Omega to last that long when led by his wife and the Queen, himself in the shadows.

It's not too difficult to find the ship, and he doesn't have to worry about prying or dangerous mercs when he arrives, and he quickly suits up in a borrowed armor that barely fits his near two and a half meter frame. He doesn't complain though, not when he can be closer to getting on Omega and not when that 'closer' puts him into a Blue Suns ship, waiting for deployment.

When everything goes sideways, he can't say he didn't expect it. He is, after all, the mate and partner-in-crime to a very unlucky woman, he himself just as unlucky in his own way, and he really should have expected Cerberus to put up defenses to their practical fortress that was Omega.

He absolutely _despises_ Aria for her reckless behavior, clenching his hands around the weapon in his hands in effort to imagine her neck between his talons, and, even more, was practically pacing the Blue Suns ship as he worried a trench in the floor hoping Jane was on one of those damn pods that managed to make it onto the station. He knows he should be confident, know that something like this won't take down his mate, but it was always stupidity that was one's worst enemy, the thing that could kill millions.

They finally – _about damn time!_ – get the good news that the defenses set up by Cerberus are dropped and he knows there is nobody alive who can manage a feat like that but his wife. It's great news that's only made better when she comes over the comms, alerting all forces that the barriers are down just before Aria takes over, shouting orders.

They're to meet up at a central point, a bunker where all of Aria's mercenaries will merge into a force that can move against Cerberus. Not really somewhere he should be, surrounded by people who will most likely try to kill him if they know who he is, but he never was one to play it safe, to follow the 'right' path. He'll take being beside his mate over the safety of being back on the Normandy any day.

As much as he wants to jump ship and rush to Jane's side through the tunnels, he has no idea _where_ she even is and he can't just get onto the comm to contact her. He won't alert anyone to his presence until he's by her side and, even then, it'll be strictly to those that need to know, which aren't very many. That's not even mentioning the fact that he can't just jump off a moving ship as it enters the orbit and begins towards the hidden hangar.

From there, he is better off waiting for her to arrive and expect her not to get herself injured because he isn't there to watch her back.

The chaffing armor isn't helping his irritation as he cracks his neck over and over, flicking mandibles against the inside of his helmet. Even the other mercs get after him for making them nervous, but he ignores them in efforts to calm the growl in his throat, never one to sit well with the unknown.

"We're in! Lock it down."

He recognizes that voice, how could he not, and shoves past some of the Suns in his way, heading towards what sounds like Aria, his mate, and another woman arguing. He stops at the railing of the walkway in efforts to just look like someone interested in their leader giving a talking down to whoever the newest hooded female is.

Something runs between the two women, he knows just from the unconscious body language of his kind, but he doesn't know how deep it goes or how much influence it will have on the events after this. To be completely honest with himself, he doesn't care to know nor does he care all that much as long as it doesn't include his mate.

He watches as they separate, sees Jane sigh and remove her helmet to rub her brows in a sign all too familiar as 'I used my biotics out of anger and now I'm suffering'. Rumbling, he watches as she starts to pace and decides now is as good a time as any, jumping over the railing and approaching her. She sees him and raises a brow, taking that look on her face she usually turns to strangers closing in, and he struggles not to chuckle at her and anger her.

Removing a calobar, the more expensive kind even she won't buy herself, and offers it. "You shouldn't use your biotics out of anger, _honey_."

He actually does chuckle as realization hits, causing her eyes to widen and mouth open. "Holy shit. How…?"

"I would think the armor would make it obvious," he responds with a chuckle, handing her the chocolate bar, before he growls and fists his hands. "Remind me to strangle Aria when I see her."

"Because the bitch nearly got me killed?" she asks with a smirk around her food, knowing him all too well. "Down boy. I don't want you to have to be the new ruler of Omega after usurping the throne, so leave her be. Although, I can't say I'm surprised that you found a way on the station 'without me knowing'. Just be safe, okay?"

"Always." He looks up at the command post, humming in thought. "Now that I'm here, what should I do? You know I want to be there with you, but this is your lead."

"Fuff it," she says with a mouth full of calobar, swallowing. "You're with me. I'm not risking anything now that you're on this station with me. She doesn't like it, she can go fuck herself. Now take that damn helmet off."

"I thought you'd never ask." Chuckling, he pulls it off and stretches his mandibles and jaw, the helmet and armor too tight and constricting, but at least his face free. "Let's go?"

She nods and leads into the busy command center, a large holographic display of the station filling the center of the large docking office that's been hollowed out for this purpose. Aria is standing beside a Salarian controlling the holographic interface and they head towards her.

"Now _why_ am I not surprised you somehow managed to bring _him_ onto my station?" Garrus growls in greeting back as she scowls at his mate. "I told you I didn't want your crew, him especially, or do you really want to test my ability to keep my lips sealed?"

Jane crosses her arms when the woman sneers and motions the display of Omega. "If you want this pathetic rock, you'll shut your damn trap."

"You're lucky I need you or I wouldn't take lightly to the insults," she responds with a curl of her lip. "You're getting too cocky, Shepard."

"Just tell me what to do to get off this fucking rock."

Sighing in irritation, Aria motions the hologram as it changed, lighting up throughout the station. "Those force fields we saw? The General has them set up all over the damn station. He controlling access to _my_ station. And you see those dark spots?"

"They show low to no power in those sectors," the Salarian merc says, never looking up from his work at two terminals at once. "I'm better power is being siphoned to power the barriers. I'm working on locating the source as we speak. Access to Cerberus communications and positions will be up shortly as well."

"More importantly," Garrus interrupts as he looks to Aria. "You don't have even _close_ to the numbers to take on Cerberus. Home field advantage won't mean anything after the losses you took."

"Finding allies, then… fan-fucking-tastic."

"Would you two _shut up_?" Aria snaps at them as she dismisses any and all objection when she turns from them and motions a screen playing a surveillance recording. "There's still one merc gang still active, the _Talons_." Her distaste is obvious as her nostrils flare. "Not my first choice, but I don't have a damn choice, now do I?"

Mercs, meaning only one thing is their language, credits. No such thing as 'appealing to the good will' of Omega's mercenaries and gaining their support, even through their pockets, takes time. "Damn, and here I am without my credit chit."

Jane chuckles as that as Aria just gives him a look. "Then I suggest you find a way to get them to work with us," she smirks, "and if that doesn't work, then I can always give them Archangel."

"Or I'll give them the Queen's head," he growls back, unafraid of the lazy and helpless Queen's wrath because he knows from his years on this station that she has lost her power to rule by the rules of the station, violence and ruthlessness. He gets her to scowl at him, flaring blue, before his wife steps between them.

"Cut it, you two," she orders and, surprisingly, Aria's biotics cool as she scoffs and moves towards ignoring him outright.

The Batarian from before – Bray, apparently – approaches, a look of realization of an upcoming reprimand, which may just turn out to be a bullet in the head knowing Aria. "Sorry to interrupt," he says with a worried breath, "but I was unloading supplies… I turned my back for a second and-"

"You lost her," the Asari woman interrupts with clenched fists. "Dammit, Bray. If I wasn't already short on manpower…"

 _She's gone,_ he thinks as he looks over the image of the station, examining the highlighted areas of lost power and blocked passages and districts. "Forget her. You need the Talons."

"That's why you're going to get them," she responds, cocking a hip as she narrows her eyes at them. "Get me the Talons. Ahz will send you the coordinates."

"And you?" Jane opens her Omni-Tool as she gets the location's coordinates, sending it to his Tool.

"I'll stay here until you set up communications." _Of course. Sit back while others fight your fights, do your dirty work._

He follows Jane to the armory, quickly stocking up on heatsinks and modding his borrowed weapon as best as possible given the situation and low supply. While there, she leans against the bench and asks, "So, how did you get on this station besides disguising yourself as a merc?"

"Arcanus." He hums as he works, replacing the Mantis' scope and stock first. "He got me the armor and allowed me to get onto one of the Blue Suns ships that was going to join the fleet."

"So that's where you went after we talked… I thought you were pissed at me and decided to stay with your family on the Citadel."

"And miss out on this?" He motions the room, the station. "Where's the fun in that?"


	23. Chapter 23

-Jane-

Cerberus bombs disabled, there is nothing but a direct assault on Afterlife and Jane's blood rushes in adrenaline, needing to finally show Cerberus what she thinks about their most recent _experiments_ pushing the barriers of the humane and inhumane. She completely understood Nyreen's fears, only needing to understand _how_ the Adjutants worked to see how that could be the stuff of nightmares.

In fact, she's pretty sure she's going to be having those if she's not careful. Reaper creatures designed by the same organization that rebuilt her _and_ her husband's face that can infect others with a mix of living tissue and Reaper tech in order to transmute was something she both never expected nor _imagine_ , let alone fight.

Every instinct told her to 'keep away', which was quickly becoming a bit of a problem with her fighting style and close quarters as they rushed through the Gozu District. From the reports on the comms, there were only more out there, attacking civilians and creating more of the grotesque creatures. Even the thought of that made her shutter under her armor enough to gain her mate's attention and concerned rumble, but she knows by his previous growl that he knows exactly what's bothering her.

"We're getting close, so move your asses," Aria snaps as they climb a ladder up the next level of the District, Jane leading with Garrus taking up the rear. "The sooner I get to Afterlife, the sooner I can kill Petrovsky… painfully."

"Yeah, yeah. Hold your fucking horses, Aria. We're moving as fast we-" She stops as they see a Talon outpost and rush forward. "Where's you Commanding Officer, soldier?" she asks the nearest mercenary, knowing 'Officer' isn't really what they'd always call Nyreen in an organization with little, well, organization.

"The Boss is scouting ahead while we hold this area-"

"Dammit, she's going to Afterlife!" Aria starts running and Jane can only curse under her breath as she sprints after, Garrus at her back with a growl in frustration at the Asari, which is much the norm during the long hours they've been working with her. "What the fuck is she thinking?!"

Jane gives her mate a look in 'you ready for this' because she just _knows_ that this won't end well, that they are in for a fight that's going to be worse that all before, even the near endless onslaught when two of them had to hold Cerberus at bay while the third disarmed the bombs. Following Aria, they run out of Gozu and start charging through the now abandoned markets, the doors sliding open to the sight of their Turian ally trying to hold off a horde of Adjutants.

Immediately, Garrus begins to fire with his Mantis, closing the gap slowly as she and Aria rush forward with their shotguns and biotics. Some are easily dropped off the railing to tumble end over end down into the pits of the station while others' sacs explode from the high powered weaponry, but there's still so many, _too many_.

"Shit, shit, shit," she curses under her breath as she starts to use her weapon as a club when she can't reload a new heat sink and hears her mate growl and trill in worry as a bullet flies mere centimeters past her ear and into the Adjutant closest to her.

"Get your ass out of there, Jane!"

Panting in panic and a bit of fear– which she will _never_ admit – at being overwhelmed by something that can turn her into a monster with a touch, she blasts them away from her, not throwing the beasts as far as she'd like, but enough to give her an opening. She starts to run, ducking under one as she starts to flare a bright blue with hopes that what she's about to do won't completely anger her husband… or break something valuable.

 _Time to test the threshold of that Blue Suns armor,_ she thinks as she lets her biotics propel her at a speed she _hopes_ will only cause minor injury and a fall, flying at his bright blue form. He curses something her translator doesn't catch as she torpedoes into him, sending him skidding across the ground to bump into the wall with a growling grunt.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Garrus," she says as she rushes to him to offer him a hand up, spinning back to the fight now at a safe distance.

Any response he would have had dies in the air as they both release a gasp of shock at the scene unfolding before them.

Where she was able to escape, Aria and Nyreen did not. With Adjutants circling and starting to close them in, Jane can see how Nyreen, probably unconsciously, step before Aria when the beasts draw closer, biotically throwing them back as Aria scowls and turns to watch their backs with her own biotics.

Jane almost charges back in, to offer support from within, when a strong grip grabs her shoulder, her mate giving her a stern shake of his head with mandibles drawn in in there being no argument. How is she supposed to stand aside, firing from across the way, while the two struggle? Yet, how can she also leave her love to worry for her safety irrationally?

She hates her inability to fight as she would against these monsters, and she is nearly at the point of shoving Garrus' hand from her shoulder in attempt to at least draw more attention to themselves than the few creeping forms, but that's when she witnesses a sight that will haunt her alongside the seemingly overabundance of nightmares she already has.

An Adjutant draws on Nyreen, hitting her weapon away as it grabs her by the throat. Lifting her, slithering tendrils move beneath its flesh and break through, winding up its arm. The fear in the woman's eyes is something that may never leave Jane as she screams, the sound choked off just as the coils shove themselves in her mouth before the monstrosity drops her.

Aria screams in rage as the Turian woman falls, emitting a supernova of energy that sends the Adjutants away and most flying over the guardrail and into the abyss. Jane and Garrus start to rush to their sides as Nyreen stands, mouth bloody as she stumbles to a Cerberus corpse.

"Aria, get the hell out of here," she demands weakly with a stern glare as she starts to glow. "All of you."

"Fuck you. I'm not leaving."

Nyreen huffs an unamused laugh as she presses her forehead to the Asari's. "Always were stubborn."

Everything happens fast as the fact that they are, once again, being surrounded makes itself known. One instant, all four of them are surrounded as Nyreen steps forward, spitting out a glob of tech and blood as she pulls the pins from the grenade belt, and the next, they are being thrown - Aria, Garrus, and Jane – from a barrier being thrown up, a bright blue dome locking the Adjutants in with the Turian woman.

The last thing Jane sees is the look in Nyreen's eyes as she looks back to them sprawled over the floor, a sense of finality, and as her green eyes lock to the shouting Asari woman just before turning back to the creatures now ignoring her presence and trying to push at the barrier. Their efforts to stand and rush to stop the woman are to no avail as their bodies, weak from the expulsion, would never make the distance in time.

Nyreen, the woman who thought of the 'people' first above all else, who reminded her so much of her own mate without the rage that fueled him, is gone in a bright explosion behind the protective barrier that falls inward, fluttering like weightless liquid.

T'Loak shouts for a woman with whom she shared a very tumultuous, yet vibrant and not unlovingly, relationship and flares with hatred, rage fueling her biotics. She practically roars as she sprints towards the club, blasting through the doors with a charge of pure fury.

Love-fueled rage is blind, is fucking stupid and irrational, but it is the strongest fuel Jane can imagine, can attest to, and it is the one thing that sends Aria into the trap.

A trap that was sucking her health as she was trapped in stasis. A trap that was relying on the very generators they were trying to destroy, literally back to back as they forced their way through the Cerberus forces.

With the last generator down, Aria unleashes her range, disintegrating shields, armor, and barriers of any ground forces unlucky enough to be in the way of her wave of biotics as she destroys the now useless stasis. However, instead of helping them take down the forces of Cerberus, the blue bitch completely leaves them to fend for themselves as she charges the field protecting the General.

"You fucking bitch!" Jane screams as she dives between covers, her husband mirroring her hatred with a deep, clicking growl at her side. "I will _kill_ you!" She sends her rage through a charge that knocks a Adjutant from the air as it tries to leap at their cover.

Aria doesn't respond as she continuously blasts against the barrier barricade and she and Garrus work on dropping the pair of Cerberus controlled Adjutants stalking towards their location. One drops to Garrus' mod heavily modded Mantis while she focuses her Graal on the one drawing closer, combining spikes with biotic Reaves.

When, at least, the creature falls to her and Garrus' combined might, she hears a station wide broadcast. It's the General, ordering a cease fire all across Omega and Jane can't believe it, the man is actually giving in when he is entirely defeated, pinned in with nowhere to go.

"Cease and desist all aggression," he says as they enter, weapons drawn. "It's over, men." He turns off some sort of interface game and turns to them, hands behind his back and chin held high. "Commander Shepard, I surrender myself into your custody."

"Like fucking hell you will," Aria growls as she wraps her hands around his throat, choking him with biotic force. "That's the most pathetic damn thing I've ever heard."

He gasps for air as he collpases on the console, Aria never relaxing her grip. "I… unarmed… give intel… on Illusive Man!"

" _Any_ thing to save your skin, you slimy little fucker-"

"Let you," he chokes and grips her arms, "escape… mercy…"

Aria looks over to Jane, which is curious considering she's never really asked her opinion nor cared for it – hell, she had just left them to practically rot in hell with the Adjutants moments ago – and the red head simply shrugs. Sure, intel would be great, but how much would he really know about a clearly Indoctrinated organization when he clearly suffers none of it himself, at least outwardly? It's just not worth the risk of him possibly being even a _bit_ under Reaper influence and she sees no reason why not to make Aria believe Jane is still on her side, despite the near constant disagreeing attitudes towards her 'leadership'.

"Biggest mistake of your pathetic life," Aria snaps back, focus entirely on the man solely responsible for the loss of so much – the biggest the loss of Nyreen that Jane knows Aria would never admit to.

"This… is… murder…"

"Let's not mince words," Jane says with a chuckle as she leans against a terminal far from the possible carnage. "It's cold blooded murder."

"No less than you deserve," the Queen adds. "But that's not what you're getting… too easy."

She closes her eyes, opening them to black and Jane lifts a brow in question to her mate. He doesn't need to answer her, surely being one to know after all he's seen and been through, as she hears the whine of pain from Petrovsky as he convulses under Aria, foaming at the mouth before he finally falls still. Aria shoves the man to the floor, his eyes still skittering over the air without seeing, and Jane knows it will be a while of agony within his own mind before he finally dies, most likely of starvation, but the Asari merely steps over him with an order for Bray to 'clean up the fucking mess'.

Leaving him to it, she and her husband approach the railing to overlook the numbers of Omega citizens piling in with cheers and shouts of victory. Even after so many years of creating an image of aloof indifference, Aria has a look of loss after Nyreen laced through her eyes as she overlooks the repurposed club, but neither of the two Spectres will address it, just too much into the mind of the blue bitch for their tastes.

"That was deeply satisfying," Aria says as she glances their way. "I'm a little surprised – here I thought one of you might try to interfere."

She leans over as Jane snorts. "Why the hell would we?"

"This partnership has been quite the exercise in frustration," she scowls and looks them over. "I like to know what makes people tick. Especially when I might need something from those some _ones_ in the future, but as it is, you are two fucking enigmas." Turning to them, she crosses her arms. "So come clean, even you, Archangel. Have you both been trying to work me, validating me one minute and judging me the next? Which is it, really? Do you agree with how I run my damn station or not?"

Jane blinks in surprise, not ever really having someone question why she questions them. "Uh, what?"

"What has you concerned, T'Loak," Garrus rumbles, more on top of the conversation than Jane is.

"I've lived for a thousand years and you may be the most powerful and _baffling,_ " she practically spits that word, as if disgusted to speak either admission, as she goes back to overlooking her 'kingdom', "pair of pain in the asses I have ever encountered. I have no idea where I stand with either of you."

Jane thinks on that for a moment before she nods, smirking with a cock of her hips. "Let it stay that way."

Her husband chuckles and nods, matching her devilish smirk with his own, surrounded by a growling rumble. "Wouldn't want you getting too comfortable on that soft throne of yours."

Silence holds the air before Aria looks over to them. "You are a truly dangerous pair."

* * *

 

They were so graciously 'donated' a ship for the trip back to the Citadel to retrieve their crew, ship, and children from Aria's army. It was a small vessel with only a single cramped cabin barely the size of a too small – at least for her mate – bed and enough space to walk from said bed, to a footlocker and door, but, thankfully, it was granted to them to try and get some much needed rest.

After they removed their armors and piled them into a corner to deal with later, they stripped from their disgusting undersuits and now half lay, half sit, on the bed together. Even naked, there is no desire for anything sexual, intimate, besides the need to just touch the other, be in the other's arms.

"What Nyreen did," she says in the silence as she runs her hand over the scarring on his shoulder, cowl, and neck. "Don't do that for me. Don't sacrifice yourself because you think it's already the end for you."

She doesn't need to speak what she actually means because, as he always does, he knows what she means and hums as he thinks it over. How could he not when it was something they were both unnerved by the entire time on the station?

What would she do if she was given the decision of her dreams? Lose her husband to the Reapers or to death? It wasn't much of a choice, and one she didn't want to make in her lifetime or any other, but there was always a 'what if', a possibility, as there are always the possibilities of the worse in their lives.

"You mean the Adjutants," he says after a silence, the two pulled from their own thoughts. "Not to sacrifice myself if I were infected…"

"I'm not stupid," she sits up with a sigh and he follows, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "I know there's no such thing as 'love conquers all' and I know I shouldn't even be thinking about it, but this, along with my dreams, has me thinking. What would I do if you were Indoctrinated? Or what would _you_ do if _I_ was?"

"Do you want the realistic answer or the unrealistic?"

She simply shrugs and motions him to her when she pushes back to lay her back to the wall. He does, laying his head in her lap, and she begins to run her fingers over the plates, dipping into the grooves and running along their contours. It seems to have the same effect on the both of them, soothing and calming enough to talk of this subject without either getting too stressed over the, again, 'what ifs'.

"I don't think I could kill you, Garrus," she whispers, watching as he opens his half lidded eyes and looks up and her with the one on her side. "You mean too much to me that, even as an Indoctrinated slave, I don't think I'd be able to lose you. Realistically, I know it's both more merciful and smarter to end your life when you were beyond saving, but I nearly piss myself in fear thinking about it. I can't lose you."

"Jane," he rumbles and smiles, letting her gently rub under the mandible and almost make him lose his train of thought. "Jane, if you're Indoctrinated, then I will gladly allow myself to be as well. Life isn't worth living without you. I know I'd have to carry on, though, to end this war without you, but it would be more difficult than it is now… and I don't know if I could hold the galaxy on my shoulders even half as well as you, let alone by myself."

"Then the galaxy is fucked if we get fucked?" She chuckles weakly and scratches under his chin, making him purr and lift his chin. "Don't know if I like the sound of everyone not being able to do anything without us. Turn."

He nods and rolls under her order, letting her rub over his scars, rubbing at the tightness. Had they been on the ship, she'd rub the oils he has to keep the hide loose and hydrated into it, but they only have each other, so she settles for just massaging the pulled hide.

"They'd do fine," he rumbles and she snorts. "But I promise you, you will never be alone, Jane. I am always with you, through the end." Chuckling, he smirks into her palm. "Even if you have to drag me."

"I'd drag that sorry ass with your feet on my hips if I have to."

He chuckles and sits up in silent question for her to rub his back, which she scoots closer to do without question, hearing him groan and relax when her fingers dig in. "I'd… pay to … see that."

She snorts and playfully swats his back before rubbing harder, working at the knots he's gained from trying to squeeze into an armor not meant for him. They go quiet after that, spending the hours until they arrive on the Citadel sharing in tending to wounds and aches, cleaning as best they can with a cloth and water from their canteens because they'd be damned if they went out and about on a merc ship in any sort of defenselessness.

When they arrive on the Citadel and head for the Normandy to shower properly, get Garrus into some armor that actually _fits_ , and pick up their babies from 'the in-laws', they are greeted by a very unusual sight standing at the airlock of the dock, waiting for their arrival to their ship.

"Ilden," Jane says on their approach with a raised brow, but offers a hand in greeting. "Can't say I was expecting you to show up out of nowhere. I thought you were hanging out with Tali, deciding to work for the Flotilla on Requisitions?"

"Actually," he admits with a frown that concerns her. "That's why I'm here. As you probably know, the Flotilla has gone silent, cut all communications. I've lost contact with Tali, but I know what they're doing, or at least planning. Here. This is the last communication I had with her before the Admirals declared a communications blackout."

He hands her an OSD and she installs it to her Tool, opening the file to see the image of Tali. When she accesses it and presses play, her old friend's image begins to speak.

" _Kal, you have to get this message to Shepard. She's the only one who might be able to help my people. Please find a way to her… Shepard,"_ the image wrings her hands, " _I don't know what to do. I've tried everything to be prepared for the Reapers, but the bosh'tets on the Admiralty Board are too occupied by the Geth. The Geth!_

 _"I need your help. Please, Shepard. Help my people avoid a senseless war that will only weaken us. Help me and I will do everything in my power to convince the Quarians to aid you in any way against the Reapers. Just, please, help me._ "

Closing the message when it repeats, Jane sighs and tosses the OSD back. "Dammit, why the fuck would those idiots go to war?"

"Just when you thought it'd be easy," Garrus adds with a rumble as he turns to the violet Drell. "How is she able to offer so much help with the Reapers?"

Ilden nods in understanding to the question, probably expecting resistance to just dropping everything to help. "Tali is on the Admiralty Board. She's taken the place of her father after her extensive knowledge with the Geth… a knowledge she also has thanks to keeping in contact with Legion."

"And I take it she couldn't broker peace without suspicion?"

The man nods and continues. "She shared the information from Haestrom with Legion, wanted to know why the Geth were so interested in a dying star." They both not for him to continue, so far following. "It wasn't the Geth, but the Heretics studying the sun."

"Heretics, huh? Any reason why they'd care?"

"Unfortunately, Shepard, the Geth went silent as soon as they found out that Tali was unable to convince her people against war. Tali believes it was not the Heretics, but perhaps the Reapers that were interested in studying the system."

Garrus hums and nods, looking to her. "Tali spoke of dark energy when she mentioned Haestrom's sun dying. They might be interested in it if the theory of dark matter being able to destroy the galaxy is right."

"What theory is that?" she asks, to which he shrugs with a twitch of his mandibles.

"Theoretical physics wasn't really my expertise, Jane."

She snorts and looks to Ilden. "How the hell are we even supposed to get into the system? Do you even know where they are?"

"When the cut communications, they were in their home system. Shepard, they aren't just warring with the Geth, they're going after their homeworld."

 _Because what we need in the middle of a galaxy-wide war is another, meaningless war. Dammit, Quarians, I thought I told you already how utterly idiotic that idea was._ Sighing, she nods and motions the ship. "Get your shit on board while we requisition some last minute supplies and round up the crew. We move on the Veil as soon as we disembark."

He nods and takes his leave as her mate turns to us. "Well, would be good to see Tali again."

She huffs with little amusement at his joke and motions to follow. "Postpone the shower for later… let's get the kids and get off this station as soon as possible. We have a bunch of Quarian suited, asses to save. _Then_ we'll give the dumb fucks' asses a swift kick of our own just for pulling that stupid stunt."


	24. Chapter 24

-Jane-

First, she had to put up with the bickering, then she finds out the Geth have Reaper upgrades thanks to this stupid war. _Then_ she has to get herself and her team onto a Dreadnought to shut down the signal transmission, only to find out that her way onto said ship is, horrifically, through a half destroyed airlock that looks out into the nothingness of space. The only way she made it out of that was all credited to her loving husband who, with a soothing, soft voice, coaxed her feet forward through the comm.

Yet, that wasn't even all _that_ had gotten under Jane's skin, oh no. What really pissed her off, was the _after_.

After they disabled the signal and unhooked Legion – which wasn't too surprising considering Legion would be the person, platform, leading the force to protect his, its, people, programs – the Quarian fleet began firing upon the disable Dreadnought. Firing on it, Jane might add, _with them still fucking aboard_.

So it's not entirely unreasonable as she storms into the War Room to want to strangle Admiral Gerrel. She will, however, at least let the man explain himself.

That explanation goes about as far as, "Shepard, the mission parameters changed. You're military. You understand that," before she swings a punch into the Admiral's gut, making him grunt and nearly fall to the floor out of both shock and pain.

"You piece of varren shit," she snaps as he slowly uses the terminal to stand, arm around his waist. "I ought to rip that mask off and spit in your fucking face for pulling that shit. As it is, you lost your chance to withdraw your people _and_ you nearly killed us." Looking to the surprised Admirals she lays down an ultimatum. "You all want my help? Then I'll give you one chance."

"What do we need to do, Commander?" Admiral Raan steps to Gerrel to help him steady, but he shrugs her off. "We know you're angry, but-"

"But nothing. You want the Normandy, then you will eject Gerrel from the Flotilla under charges of treason."

Their eyes widen and Gerrel shakes his head rapidly they, pointing an accusing finger in her face. "You have no right to demand-"

"Doesn't she?" Garrus steps down the steps, this conversation something she hadn't expected, though hoped, he'd join in since he, too, was aboard that ship and as equally in danger. "You fired upon a ship occupied by two Spectres _and_ your own Admiral. That's not including how you've all illegally armed registered civilian vessels with armament and started an unprovoked war with the Geth, something that goes against your absolution agreement with the Council. So I'd say she's going easy on the entire Flotilla by just demanding your exile."

The Admiral turns to the others. "You can't listen to them. I did what was within my right as Admiral of the Heavy Fleet to attack that ship."

"The Commander is right," Daro'Xen crosses her arms and cocks a hip against the terminal. "If one of us must fall to keep the Spectres at bay from the rest of our people, then why not accept it, Gerrel?"

"You can't be serious. The entire Board chose this war!"

"Don't you dare accuse me of going along with this ridiculous and suicidal plan," Koris spits angrily. "Tali'Zorah and I wanted nothing to do with this war, but you dragged us in with you. We had no other choice!"

Jane steps forward to control the shouting and arguing Admirals, shouting loudly. "Everyone shut the _fuck_ up!" They all look to her and she glares at the Admiral in question. "What will it be, Gerrel? Own up to your mistake and get the fuck out or take every last one of your people with you?"

She knows the question is more towards those she doesn't directly address, the decision to sacrifice one for the many something they all have to decide without the man who will, as nature intended since the beginning of existence, save his own hide. Their heads turn amongst themselves, asking and answering questions without words of what will become of their people.

"We…" Admiral Raan begins, looking to Admiral Gerrel with apology written in her body language. "We are sorry, Gerrel, but our people come first…"

"You're all insane! Who will lead the Heavy Fleet-"

Tali lifts her chin and answers, like the Admiral she is, "An interim Admiral. One of the Captains of the Heavy Fleet versed in combat will lead the others in defending our civilian ships from the Geth."

"We can't do this to me! I have Captains loyal to me. You exile me and you lose nearly _half_ the Heavy Fleet!" Gerrel's head snaps around the room, to the masked and hooded figures holding his future in their hands.

Instead of bicker even more about the implications of this, Admiral Raan addresses the others. "Is judgment ready to be rendered?"

"You can't do-"

"Guilty," Tali announces first, looking directly at the man.

Admrial Koris is next with his, "Guilty."

Xen is quiet as her eyes narrow behind her mask before she speaks her agreement of "Guilty", though even Jane knows it's more to protect hers and the other Quarians' backsides than a true judgment of the man's actions – actions which she, by her stance on the Geth, may very well have supported.

"Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema, by unanimous decision, you are hereby found guilty of treason against the Quarian people and sentenced to exile. I … I am sorry." Raan drops her head after the verdict and Jane watches as the now former Admiral looks around the room, hands grasping the air at his side.

"You… you can't…"

"We are deeply sorry, Han," Koris nearly whispers as none of them, except Xan, can look Gerrel in the eyes.

"You now you have six hours to reclaim your personal effects from the Fleet before you must leave." Raan sighs and, finally, looks to Gerrel. "Go in peace, Han'Gerrel. Keelah se'lai."

The others mirror the gesture that means little to the man giving them a last look of loss and betrayal. He fists his hands at his sides, gives Jane and her mate a cold hearted stare, before finally leaving the room and, presumably, the Normandy.

There is an uncomfortable silence in the War Room before Xan speaks, looking accusingly at Jane and her husband. "Well, I sure hope your brilliant idea to exile the Admiral commanding our Heavy Fleet to take his loyal Captains and ships doesn't get us all killed."

"And his plan now wasn't?" Jane responds with little taste for the woman. "I suggest you do as Tali suggested and find yourself a loyal interim Admiral."

"Admirals," Tali cuts in, wringing her hands. "If I may, I think I might know someone. Captain Kal'Reegar-"

"Reegar was nothing but a Marine mere months ago!"

"Admiral Koris, please," Raan mediates, as always. "Let Tali speak."

"I have worked with Reegar. He knows military strategy and he's willing to put aside politics and do what's right." She sighs and looks to Jane. "He may not have believed in this war, but he will protect our people above all else."

Admiral Raan nods. "We shall consider the Captain."

"Our greater concerns should be what damage Gerrel will do should he actually have a sizable amount of armed vessels to take against the Geth," Xan stands up from her perch and comes closer. "The Geth won't know he's exiled and may just attack us all over when he opens fire."

"Shepard-Commander." Legion steps in through the hydraulic doors, head flaps extending with flickering optical lights. "We are prepared to offer assistance."

"What the _hell is this_?!" Admiral Raan backs away as Xan perks in interest.

"Calm down," Jane orders with a stern look to them both, Tali laying a hand on her aunt's shoulder to calm her. "His name is Legion and you fuck with him you fuck with me. He's the best damn source we have on the Reaper situation and Geth."

"It, Shepard," Tali corrects.

"Semantics," she responds as she looks to Legion. "What do you have on the Reaper control of the Geth?"

"You have cut off long-range control, but the Old Machines placed a base on Rannoch for short-range direction. They are currently disorganized, but once the short-range signal is in place, they will recover."

" _Keelah_ ," Raan gasps. "We must warn the Fleet! Xen, find Kal'Reegar and coordinate with the Heavy Fleet. I must alert Koris."

"Legion," Garrus rumbles to the Geth as the Admirals rush through their assigned terminals for the time being. "We need to take out this Reaper base. Where is it?"

"Unknown," Legion deadpans and he sighs.

"Find it."

"Understood, Garrus-Praetor. We do know the location of a server from which Geth fighter squadrons are controlled. The squadrons are targeting creator liveships. Disabling them will limit casualties. We offer assistance."

"Looks like that's our first stop." Jane nods to her mate in silent 'get ready for a drop' as she turns to Legion completely. "Give EDI the coordinates of the server."

"Affirmative, Shepard-Commander."

* * *

 

Their day was long and tiring, trying and seemingly unending. They were unable to immediately move against the Geth fighter squadrons due to an urgent distress signal from Admiral Koris' ship, the Admiral had used his own ship to destroy a Rannoch-based cannon firing upon his people.

They managed to save him, to bring order, once again, to the Civilian Fleet within the Flotilla, but at the cost of countless of his crew left injured and to fend for themselves upon the world they were fighting so stupidly hard to see. It was a loss for the Admiral, and Jane saw a lot of herself in him, the feeling of helpless loss evident in his figure even across species and obstacles of the Quarian's suit.

An entirely different helplessness shrouded the mission into the Geth server, her own involvement whittled down to watching guard of her unconscious mate's body as Legion _hooked him into the Geth._

She had argued about him going alone, yelled futilely at a Geth that didn't give two shits about emotions or opinions, and was simply and plainly put told 'no'. She just wasn't mentally capable of doing it with or without Garrus, her mind never experiencing the, according to Garrus, somewhat painful and disorienting experience of joining with a synthetic 'mind'.

Not that he had, not completely, but he _had_ joined with another mind that had already gone through the pain, the transition made easier due to it.

_"Dammit, I knew you were doing something fun while I went for a field trip with the Collectors," she huffs in attempt to calm her nerves._

_He chuckles and presses his helmet to hers. "Guess you'll just have to wait out here and watch your handsome mate sleep."_

She had snorted at that and nuzzled their helmets before letting him go, watched as he climbed into the pod and gone limp. That had hurt a bit, but she forces herself to remember he was simply asleep.

It would have gone smoothly had Gerrel, now a rebel trying to regain favor with his people, not started firing upon the immobile Geth fighters. It didn't help much with the Quarians' attempts at looking nonthreatening in the eyes of the Geth, the synthetics now gearing for combat even without the long-range Reaper upgrades, but, thankfully, the Heavy Fleet was on top of the situation.

Kal'Reeger, an interim Admiral only in name, was actually more a face of a collective of remaining Heavy Fleet Captains. His previous first-hand experience with Geth and, apparently, Geth influenced by Reapers, he was deemed the best by his peers to collaborate with both the other Fleets as well as the Normandy. It was all fine to Jane and, in her opinion, it was good to work with someone who was against, and wanted to end, this war.

Now there was only one thing to do to end this pathetic, unnecessary war between the Geth and dumbass Quarians, to destroy the Reaper signal on Rannoch.

Unfortunately, conditions weren't favorable. They were exhausted, sore, and just plain tired from the long day of back to back missions. So their top priority was regain their strength for an onslaught in the dawn on Rannoch, a mere seven hours from now.

She'd have wanted an actual day for them to rest, but there wasn't a guarantee the Flotilla could keep itself inconspicuous and hold off the last remaining Geth fighters still dogging them. On top of that, there was a time bomb counting down on Rannoch and they didn't even have a counter.

So here they all were, in the Mess trying to stuff themselves with rations and have any sense of normalcy with the crew. It was nice to have Tali back, and they were all catching her up on both things missed as well as sharing stories with the new additions to the crew, perhaps share those stories not yet spoken of.

"…So these loco pendejos are going to take down a Reaper with a Thresher Maw…"

"Keelah," Tali sighs with a shake of her head at Vega's story, looking at the little baby in her arms and speaking in exasperation. "Only your mother would use a Thresher..."

"It was Wrex's idea. And I wasn't even the one that slammed that last Hammer." Jane chuckles and motions to her husband with Damocles in his arms, asleep unlike his sister. "Garrus has that honor."

Tali gasps and narrows her eyes at the Turian in question who merely shrugs. "Reaper was in our way."

"Yeah, if only we can find us a giant gun that can shoot Thresher Maws."

Arcanus chuckles with a rolling rumble, setting his glass down on the table before speaking. "Unfortunately, I believe there are quite a few of us that would disagree with that idea."

"Me included," Jane agrees with a chuckle. "So, tell us, Arcanus. You've had a run in with a Thresher, I'm sure, so spill it as is customary with these types of get togethers."

"It was during my short time while still in the Hierarchy military, in a very similar situation to yours. A supply outpost was, unknowingly, constructed upon a Thresher Maw's nest."

She hisses at that, definitely agreeing to the whole 'similar to her own situation' statement. Why in the known galaxy Threshers just so happened to be on every viable planet was one of those great mysteries, apparently. Sure, she understood they were like vermin whose reproductive spores stick to ships and that's _technically_ how they spread, but she's being rhetorical.

She doesn't know why, but even her back itches in unconscious need to scratch a tight scar she no longer even has. Genuinely curious, she asks, "So, did you and your squad drop it or escape?"

"My squad?" He shakes his head slightly to the twinkling of his piercings with a rumbling chuckle. "Actually, I never became more than a grunt in the military. To answer your question, however, we destroyed it."

"That's not easy. How did you manage?" Liara sets her datapad aside, no longer half-listening to the conversation while she works – much to Jane's irritation but failed attempts otherwise.

"We used an AA gun."

Jane huffs a laugh and chuckles, many of the others sharing in the amusement with a round of light laughter. "Damn, I wish we did something that impressive." She looks to the older Turian and explains with a shrug, "We just had a MAKO."

"In my cycle," Javik starts, much to many of their groans in exasperation that he either ignores or dismisses, "The creatures were often trained to be ridden into battle."

Jane snorts. "Serious?"

"When am I not?"

She lifts a brow and decides to explain, instead turning to Liara. "Decided to join the land of the living?" At the confused look she gets, she points to the datapad and gets Liara to chuckle, blushing.

"A Shadow Broker's job is never done."

"Anything interesting and groundbreaking?" Ilden asks with a teasing smirk, playing with the baby in Tali's hands with his gloved fingers. _Can never be too safe concerning Drell venom and we'd be damned if we let our babies get high as a fucking kite._

"Actually, I was doing research into something." She smiles and looks to Garrus and Jane sitting side by side. "Though I think it may not be Mess talk," she adds with a chuckle.

"Oh, enthrall us," Garrus disagrees with a chuckle and motion of his hand to the others.

She chuckles and shrugs. "I was curious if Damocles' and Cassia's Chimerism could be engineered to help the Quarian people or others with genetic, live threatening diseases."

"Dios, in the middle of war and you're trying to better the galaxy." Vega puts on exasperation, but ruins it when he chuckles. "Looks _and_ brains, Doc?"

Liara rolls her eyes at him, but continues. "It's just a thought, really. I had thought of it while devising a basic plan for possible refugee transport once the Quarian liveships are free from actual battle."

"Wait," Tali interrupts, "I don't really know how these little ones are possible. Isn't hybridism illegal in Council space?"

"It is," Garrus hums, then growls. "Like hell we'll let them enforce it without a fight."

"Plus, no one but the crew and his family know about them. And you all are loyal… or you're dead," Jane jokes with a mock stern look that gets laughs of dismissal.

"Shepard-Commander. We do not understand organics' laws against the development of a mutually beneficial joining of two species in order to produce an offspring with shared biological qualities of both."

Liara takes this one, looking to Legion. "It's an ethics dilemma. What if a hybrid's life is one of pain and mutation due to the combination of DNA?"

"Organics can suffer these ailments when produced by parental DNA from the same species-"

"Legion," EDI tries to explain, her time spent trying to learn the crew aiding to her understanding in ways Jane had never expected. "I believe the issue is the possibility of a young individual being submitted to pain that, in theory, could be avoided."

She looks to Jane for correction, but the red head simply shrugs and says, "I think that's probably it. Ethical and moral issues are often the hardest to explain and gain a completely agreement on."

"Shepard," EDI stands and crosses her arms behind her back. "The Quarian Admirals are requesting yours, Tali's, and Garrus' audience in the War Room."

Sighing, she stands and nods to the others staying aboard in thanks for the relaxing dinner, the chance to come down from the war. "Looks like they're done waiting for the Geth to come back on under the new Reaper signal. Ground crew, prepare to drop. The rest of you, get the hell out of my Mess," she says with a chuckle before they hand babies off to others and the three head to the CIC.

* * *

 

 _'I'm getting out to fight this thing on foot'_ was probably one of the stupidest ideas she's ever had. She didn't even need Garrus' worried trilling in her ear and Tali's soft gasps with each passing beam she dodged to know that. This was probably the dumbest fucking idea Jane Vakarian has ever had in her thirty-one years, twenty-nine if she doesn't count the two dead.

What made it all worse was the fact that the giant Reaper only seemed to be getting _angry_ with each targeted blast from the Fleet.

 _Perhaps kicking Gerrel and almost half the Heavy Fleet out before regaining Rannoch was a bad idea... 'Jane Shepard, unlucky and hot-heated idiot', message on my grave,_ she thinks as the Reaper steps ever closer.

The sheer fact that it is so close she can practically smell the air heating and ionizing in the cannon pointed straight at her - panicked and rage fueled vocals in her comm as Garrus shoves open the tank to, stupidly, she might add, die with her - is just plain insulting as it could just step under her, squish her like a puny bug. Yet, let it be known she doesn't stop fighting until she falls as she holds the targeting system up and holds the trigger in an ultimate game of chicken, one of life and death.

She actually _wins out_ on the standoff as, raining down from the sky, artillery showers the unprepared Reaper. It thrashes under the assault, trying to stand and each time stumbling, and, in the turmoil, it is unable to protect itself, allowing its biggest weakest to be wide open to the Fleet's cannon fire. When she almost worries if it is not enough, if it will simply collect itself and try again, maybe just sweep them under a massive foot, the last barrage of artillery rains down, finally taking it down.

Ground shaking beneath her feet and lungs burning at her held breath, she squeezes the three fingered hand gripping hers to help keep her standing in silent 'thanks' and 'we did it, we fucking took the bastard down'. She looks up to her mate and nods, assuring him she's okay, before looking to the Reaper corpse just as its 'eye' rolls and opens, glowing a bright red.

"Shepard."

"Reaper." She can't help it, almost being disintegrated has a way of making her less articulate, so she takes what she gets out of the near mush of her brain.

"Harbinger informs us of you. You resist, but you will fail. The cycle must continue."

"That's where you're wrong," Garrus says as he growls. "You've never faced a cycle like ours. We _will_ break your damn cycle."

"You represent chaos, we represent order. Every organic civilization must be harvested in order to bring order to the chaos. It is inevitable. Without our intervention, organics are doomed. We are your salvation."

She looks to her mate and he nods, reading her mind as he always does. Hefting up the targeting system once more, she scowls. "We don't need your 'salvation'."

With that, she holds the trigger as the system targets, the Quarian Fleet firing at her command and sending the machine into a fiery inferno as it seems to first ignite internally before bursting outward, its metal body a shell as the more fragile, internal mechanisms fall to the flames. She takes a wonderful sense of glee in seeing the flames lick at the black body, the red of its eye replaced by a much more comforting flicker of the destruction.

"I…" They turn to see Tali climbing out of the Geth tank, Legion following. "We killed a Reaper… Keelah…"

"We can confirm that the Geth are no longer being directed by the Old Machines." Legion pauses as he, it, steps beside them, looking down at the Reaper. "We are free."

"Commander Shepard," Admiral Koris announces over their comms, a sense of relief in his voice. "The Geth fleet has stopped firing."

EDI interrupts with an alert. "Shepard, Han'Gerrel and his Fleet have moved in from the northern hemisphere of Rannoch. They seem to be targeting the Geth fleet."

"Shepard-Commander, the Geth other acted in defense after the creators attacked. Do we deserve death?"

Garrus growls, obviously thinking back to what he told her about his time in the Geth collective and what he saw of the Geth and Quarian past. "EDI, open a channel between the Normandy, Gerrel's Fleet, and the Flotilla."

There is a pause before Gerrel's voice comes over the comm, desperation laced in his quick words. "Now's the time to strike! I can still help our people!"

The other Admirals shout something amongst themselves as Legion turns to her. "Shepard-Commander. We have retained upgrades from the Old Machines."

"The ones you showed us?" It nods and she frowns in confusion. "What are you suggesting?"

"With the Old Machine dead, we could upload them to all Geth without sacrificing their independence-"

"You want to upload Reaper code?" Tali shakes her head rapidly as she looks to Jane and her mate. "That would make them as smart as when the Reaper was controlling them!"

"Yes, but with free will. Each Geth unit would be a true intelligence. We would be… alive," Legion looks between all three of them. "And we could help you… Please."

'True intelligence', that which EDI possesses and makes her so curious of the galaxy, helps her learn how to modify her motives, her purposes. Do the Geth not deserve the same?

"Do it."

"What?!" The young Quarian spins on her, eyes wide as she crowds them in panic. "Uploading that code will destroy us! You can't choose the Geth over my people!"

"Do you remember the question that caused the creators to attack us, Tali'Zorah? 'Does this unit have a soul?'"

Garrus nods, confirming her either order as he gently separates them from the sniffling Quarian, her eyes jerking from the sky to the conversation. "Upload the code. Tali, control the Fleet. Call them off this idiotic war."

"This is Admiral Tali'Zorah. Stop all offense maneuvers against the Geth-"

"What?!" Gerrel's voice must jump two octaves in shock. "You can't be serious. Now is the time to attack!"

"Admiral Zorah, ma'am. This is Captain Reegar. I have the Heavy Fleet ready. Do you want us to move against the Geth or Gerrel and his men?"

Jane is actually happy that the Admirals supported their idea to put Kal'Reegar in the position. He's smart and he knows war, knows what a needless battle will lead to, death and loss. To see that he'd actually move against his own in order to end a war is the sign of a true soldier, no matter what title he has.

"You can't choose the Geth over your own people! They're defenseless."

Sniffling louder, Tali approaches Legion, unable to convince her own people in their futile war. "Please. I beg you. Do not do this."

"We regret the deaths of the creators," he adds sadly, truly sorry in a way that only shocks Jane more when added to the 'please' that slipped out earlier, "but we see no alternative. Forty percent."

"Please, Shepard… Garrus. Don't let my people die."

"Nobody is going to die. Give me the comm." Nodding, Tali transfers the communications data and Jane clears her throat. "All ships, idiots and none, this is Commander Shepard. If you like your suited asses then open your damn ears and listen. The Geth are about to come online and blast your tiny little Fleet out of the water unless you stand the fuck down. You were all stupid to start this war, but you can be smart now and end it by standing down."

"This is Tali'Zorah and Shepard speaks with my authority."

"And mine, as Admiral of the Civilian Fleet," Koris agrees.

None of it seems to get through that thick helmet or skull of the man as Tali curses when he demands, "Then _I'll_ win this war! All units fire!"

Sighing, Garrus comes onto the comm as well. "You less than five minutes to stop your disgraced Admiral before the Geth wipe all of you out, civilian and non-combatant alike."

She nods in thanks and scowls at the fucking stupid ass Quarians, that this should really be an issue and not just blowing Gerrel out of the sky. "Vakarian is right. You want to go fuck yourselves, be our guests, but we're _done_ wiping your asses for you when you shit the bed, _yet again_. Keelah fucking se'lai."

There's a long pause before a sigh on the comm. "All units…" Gerrel starts. "Hold your fire… You better be right about this, Shepard."

"Error." Surprised, she looks up to the glowing Geth, seeing it collapse the glowing orb of haptic data. "Copying code is insufficient. Direct personality dissemination required."

Her mouth falls open at that, her eyes widening. She doesn't need to know all the technical terms to understand that tone, that look – even from a Geth without a true face. It hurts, hurts just as much as Mordin giving her that same look, and she struggles to look Legion in the metaphorical eyes.

"Shepard-Commander. I must go to them. I…I'm sorry… It's the only way."

It hurts, to care for a Geth after everything wrong that's happen including them, but it hurt all the same. Her chest aches, but she nods, offering her hand. "I'll miss you, Legion."

"And I as well," Garrus adds with a sad rumble, offering his own hand to shake with Legion's. "Won't be the same without your overanalyzing."

Mask fogged, Tali steps forward, her hands wringing slowly. "Legion," she sniffs, "the answer you your question is 'yes'."

"I know, Tali… but thank you. Keelah se'lai."

As if with a deep breath of resolution, he turns from them, to save them the sight of seeing his body go dim, falling to his knees before collapsing. Even though he's nothing but a machine whose actual programming has 'died', Jane goes to his side and falls to her knees. Laying a hand on the cold metal, she says a silent goodbye as she drops her head.

Garrus lays his hand on her shoulder as he crouches and rumbles in comfort, probably knowing this will only bring an all new nightmare involving a past crew stealing away her hopes and dreams. Legion may have been difficult to warm up to, but he was just as much her crew, her _family_ , as the others and it still hurts to imagine one more name going up on that wall before the Lift.


	25. Chapter 25

-Jane-

_…Shepard-Commander… it's the only way…_

She opens her eyes and slowly sits up with stiff limbs, ashes falling from where they collected on her back to flutter down into the thick fog licking at her hands and knees. Around her are the crackling creaks of long since dead branches on twisted trees as she stumbles to her feet to start the 'game' that she has been playing for over a month now.

Not that this place knows anything but the frozen nothingness of repeating buildings and roads that disappear into the fog, only to return her back to the start.

They say hell is fire and brimstone, but she _knows_ it's really ice cold and full of white nothingness that hides the true evil.

_…I just couldn't leave… I wish I had…_

She knows what she has to do, so she goes quiet and listens, listens past the far-off and muffled footfalls of the giants whose steps are truly Earth shattering in times she is awake. The sources of those and the sounds of voices mean nothing to her, have no sway over her actions in this place. Only the fog has that power, the strength to control her without her ever knowing better.

Putting aside all those feelings of dread and regret that come with those sounds, no longer allowing them to pull at her ears, she focuses only on searching for that source of fleeting happiness and hope. At first, there is nothing but the deafening quiet, the sensation of thick cotton in her ears, but soon she hears what she knows will guide her, what she is searching for.

The sound of _laughter_.

_…only way… Someone might have gotten in wrong…_

Moving towards the sounds as fast as she can manage in the thick, strangling fog, she hunts for the two figures that those laughs belong to, the only ones that can find peace and joy in this hellish nightmare world. She dives deeper into the trees, dead branches breaking underfoot, until the laughter becomes like a thunder in her ears, the only thing she hears.

Stepping into the clearing she sees them, the two children that haunt her in her sleep, that steal away into the fog every time she draws close. They twirl and jump in some game she can't comprehend, laughing and smiling, their mandibles spread wide, but she can't share in their joy. Not when she knows what must be coming, _who_ must be coming.

 _…_ _I was able to say my goodbyes… you gave me that…_

Yet, he doesn't come. Not yet.

Instead, she is allowed to step closer to them, close enough to hear their soft voices and see their blue eyes as they stop and turn to her, smiling.

"Hi, mommy," her daughter says with a soft purr.

"We missed you," her brother adds with a tilt of his head in obvious confusion. "Why haven't you come to play with us?"

"Don't you love us?"

She recoils, as if hit, and gapes, stunned stupid as she just blinks at them. It takes time, but she eventually manages to close her mouth before the fog chokes her and swallows thickly to answer.

"I will always love you. I just… I…"

_…Leave us, then… We embrace the silence…_

"Your mother has had a hard time navigating this place we call home," _his_ voice explains from behind her, making her blood run colder than it's been since waking in this nightmare. "She has never stopped loving you."

She doesn't want to look to him, _can't_ , for fear of what she may see, for the image he will take today, but she cannot ignore that burning in her back of his stare. That burn is the best feeling considering the alternative, the cold steel in her heart of seeing her love broken and shattered into a million pieces, only to be brought back together as nothing more than a false image of his true self.

What would the harm in staying like this do?

_...I was never a soldier, remember?..._

"Jane, look at me" he seems to demand without any real force, but more as plea to be noticed, to receive the same desperate attention as their children.

Can she really look at him, at the monster of him, with the same love and need as the two children before her? Can her sanity take the accusing voices around her telling her of how she failed to protect him, even if in only her dreams?

Swallowing her fear, listening all she can truly do in this reality that gives her no real choice, she turns to him and gasps in shock at what lies before her.

Clad in a beautiful suit, much like the very one he wore on their wedding, her _untouched_ mate smiles at her with warm she's never had in this place and reaches a hand out to her.

_…I will assist the Professor… distract the enemy…_

As she takes a step to him, reaching back, she watches horror unfold before her eyes.

Where there was light in his eyes, there is nothing but grey filled with the dead glow of cybernetics. His smile is a slack mandibled, choked groan as coils fall from his mouth plates and drape over his chest and shoulders, digging into his body through his now bloodstained clothes. His outstretched hand cracks and curls, metal tearing through hide and slicing plates as his fingers elongate and stretching into jagged claws.

"Daddy!" Both children run past her and to the thing, taking each of its twitching hands as it turns from her immobile body to lead the twins away.

It's only as they fade into the fog and she collapses in agony at being able to do nothing but watch them go that she realizes the screams in her ears are from her own lips, her sobs washing away the ash on her icy cheeks.

_…Was… Pleasure… beautiful… babies…_

* * *

She wakes with a gasp and jerks up in bed. It takes only a second before she realizes with a groan where she is, hands rubbing at the pounding headache behind her temples.

She hears a soothing, sleepy rumble and shuffle of the sheets as her bed-partner shifts and sits up. Large, three fingered hands run over her back and shoulders before gently replacing her own on her head, warmth seeping into her cold and clammy skin. He doesn't ask if she's dreamt of death and horrors, doesn't need to this long into the sleepless nights, but he does pull her closer to his chest and that's more comforting than any words that could echo with his beautiful voice.

"I'm sorry I can't help you," he whispers as he shifts his hands to run talons lightly through her hair.

"Do you ever have nightmares?"

He hums and lays his head to hers as he just moves to holding her, his vibrating chest against her back. "I don't think Turians sleep like humans do… Anytime I had something close to what you describe as a nightmare, I was awake."

She frowns, remembering some of the talks they had of the time she was gone, of why he had acting so desperate when they were reunited on Omega. "You mean hallucinations?"

"Yeah," he answers with a slight nod. "I saw you everywhere… I've heard hallucinations for Turians only happens after great loss," he huffs a derisive laugh, "I guess there'll be enough of that to go around after this war."

"The war to end all wars… Did you know humans once named an Earth-wide war that once?" She snorts and finds his hand on her belly, linking their fingers. "That was _before_ we had another only twenty or so years after that. All that seems so…"

She doesn't know the word she's looking for, her lack of vocabulary that isn't something vulgar truly showing in these deep conversations, but he saves her when, after knowing her so long, understands and offers, "Inconsequential?"

"Show off," she says softly as she lays her head back against his chest, delighting in that soft chuckle in his throat. "But yeah…"

"Jane," he whispers with a caress of the backs of his talons over her cheek, her skin finally starting to warm. "I hold no illusions about what will become of us, what may happen, but I _can_ make the most of what time we have and spent it where is counts. Here, in this small Captain's Quarters, it is just you, me, Damocles, and Cassia, nothing and no one else."

She considers his words and sighs, closing her eyes as she breathes to try and throw off the stress and weight of the galaxy. With each breath out, she releases her fears of Earth, of Palaven and Tuchanka, of the inevitable conflict reaching the Citadel where so many thought they'd be finally safe. Each breath in remembers someone she is fighting for or has lost, setting them aside or saying goodbye.

There is silence in the room, nothing but her breathing and its companion within her mate's and their sleeping children. Yet, it is not the chilling silence that makes her skin in, but the warm, comfortable peace that doesn't need to be filled with words.

It is a silence that helps her make the finally step out of the current of rushing waters from the panic and fear and onto the shore of the calm they have created in this small Loft they call home. When she opens her eyes, she feels better than she has in months, free, and she looks up to her husband to see his soft smile.

"Thank you."

"For?"

"Just being you."

He chuckles and smirks. "I _am_ pretty impressive." She snorts and elbows back into him before smiling and laying against his chest. "I've been thinking… It might not be the exact solar date on the Citadel, but I'd like to do something to celebrate our marriage."

An anniversary? It's been years since they've ever had the chance to relax and pretend to be a couple, let alone actually celebrate their marriage – hell, they only ever had _one_ in all these years, though her whole stint of pushing up daisies is mostly to blame for that.

It was one of the best ideas she's ever heard, she'll admit.

"Fuck yes," she says as she sits up and turns to him, cupping his face and kissing him deeply, hearing him thrum in sexual interest at her force. Getting an idea, she stands and heads to the small closet they share with their meager sets of casual and non-uniform clothes. She finds something close to what she wants and smirks. "Where's your combat knife?"

"Combat knives should stay far from any bed activities, Jane," he deadpans and she chuckles, deciding to just search his armor for it anyways.

With a wordless gasp of victory, she climbs up in bed and wraps the belt she found around his neck to measure it. That gets her a brow raise and curious rumble of vocals, but she ignores him as she removes the belt, cuts a hole for the buckle and removes the extensive access. _Not the best, but good enough to suit my tastes for now._

"Alright, I give up," he says as she starts to wrap the 'collar' back around his neck, loose enough not to choke, but enough to add a bit of teasing pressure. She knows it works when, with a gentle tug, his eyes half lid at the sensation around his neck. "What…"

"-Am I doing?" she finishes for him and he nods. "I made you a collar."

"I'm a varren now?" He smirks. "Jane, Jane, Jane…"

She snorts and tugs on the collar again, actually making him moan. "No varren, but a pet all the same," she says as she smirks and runs her tongue over his mandible, making his purr and press into her tongue. "I think it's time I finally get you back for that slave and master play."

Chuckling, he smirks. "By having me as a pet?"

She smirks back and she yanks hard on his fringe, pulling his head back and making his chest heave for a second of surprised breath before he calms. "Good boys don't talk unless spoken to," she whispers in his ear and delights in the way his pupil dilates, a perfect sing of his agreement and enjoyment.

He growls, definitely smelling her own enjoyment between her legs as she rolls onto the bed, pulling him with her by a finger hooked into his 'collar'. He follows like the good pet he is and struggles a bit when she pushes him down, which gets him a rough squeeze of his centermost crest. "Do it. Lick me."

Moaning, Garrus drops down between her legs and runs his tongue from bottom to top, swirling around her clit. The feeling is like electricity thanks to that roughness of his long, slender tongue and it only gets better when he slides that warm muscle into her. She moans and bucks at that, pulling his head tighter to her with his crests and legs around his neck as he starts to undulate and move within her.

Tip lapping at her cervix, he thrusts that rough surface against her upper wall and she arches, cursing into the air. When he starts to thrum and growl, moaning and growling shamelessly at her taste, she jerks as the air gets knocked from her lungs in surprise. Every time, it's always the same, that vibrating sensation always surprising her no matter how many time they do it.

Eyes fluttering and head thrown back into the pillows, she almost doesn't notice his hand – a challenge, she's sure – slide along his hip and under his belly, reaching for the massive and angry blue between his legs. She smirks at his need and taps her heel on his back. "Oh no… bad boy. You don't want me to punish you, do you?"

He growls and smirks against her and she can see his arm flex as he strokes himself once, twice-

She kicks him off with a scowl, breathing heavy at not being able to finish, and the sight of his blue tongue licking his glistening mouthplates is torture. Jerking his collar to bring them eye to eye, she runs her tongue along his scars and smirks at his growl, shiver, and clenched hands.

Oh, she'll make him pay for ruining her high, for making her fall back down the hill before cresting.

Pushing him to his back, she kisses down his scarred neck with tongue and nips, gripping his vivid length with a firm grip. That has him gasping a shaking breath as he moans, toes curling against the sheets. How she loves seeing the large Turian writhe, whine with vocals, and plead for more.

But 'more' is not something he will get, not when she was so close to her own orgasm.

Instead of straddling him to take him in, she starts to rub her folds against the underside ridges of his cock, moaning as they each rub against her aching sex. She hears his frustrated groan as he grips her hips and bucks in attempt to get in her, but it only gets him a smirk and his hands forced to the bed.

"Be a good boy and stop struggling," she whispers breathlessly into his ear. "You won't have to be punished if you listen."

Moaning, she more leans against him than holds him as she bucks and clenches her eyes, the coil in her belly tightening until it feels like a weight pushing down, needing release or it'll destroy her. He doesn't seem to mind her lapse as he leans up and licks along her pulse and nibbles her ear roughly, pushing her over with a groaned whine, hips bucking out of sync.

Her orgasm ends too quickly, leaves her wanting as so many without truly cumming with him seem to do, and she pants as she smirks down to him. "See what being a bad boy gets you? You missed out on a very good orgasm… you could have been in me then."

Garrus moans at that and bucks. "Let me regain your favor, Mistress. I beg you."

Having Archangel at her mercy – _should definitely remember that for an evening we have to ourselves_ – and begging forgiveness was enough to sway her, to help remind her they are on a time limit with the twins sleeping only meters away. That in mind, she lifts to her knees and takes him in hand, lining him up.

His eyes, previously staring intently into hers, clench as he arches with talons gripping the sheets and mandibles flaring in pleasure. She loves that sight, always has and always will, and doesn't make him weight as she starts to ride him, lifting to his tip before dropping down with a slap of her ass to his plates.

Never one to be still for long, he sits up once he's going over the initial shock and, one hand on the bed behind his back and the other holding her, starts to buck, fucking up into her. It feels incredible, their bodies moving together as his hips hammer into her despite whatever speed she chooses, and she starts to ascend faster than she'd have thought, than their play was supposed to allow.

Wrapping her fingers around the collar, she pulls his growling mouth to hers and slams her lips to his plates with bruising force as she screams into his mouth. His tongue shoves it to swirl and swallow her pleasure as he groans and closes his eyes, pulsing and flexing within her as he floods her with his hot seed.

They come down slowly, panting and kissing to his rumbling purrs and her soft whimpers. How they didn't wake the babies, she'll never know, but she's happy that they had this moment, this bit of piece after her chilling nightmare of not only losing him, but of _seeing_ him become nothing but a Reaperized horror of himself.

"I love you, Jane," he whispers after some time of being in his arms, her own hands splayed over his back. "And I want to show you how much when we arrive at the Citadel. Just the two of us."

She smiles at that, at a chance to be 'normal' for a time. "I love you too, Garrus," is her answer and she knows he reads between the lines, under the words, because she hears his soft purr and feels his arms tighten around her.

"Is it true that we're heading to the Citadel next?" he asks and she nods against his chest, but before he can explain, Cassia begins to huff in the preparation of crying, her brother trilling at being woken and, thus, about to join. "Guess it wasn't going to last _all_ morning," her mate says with a chuckle as she groans half-heartedly. "Better get up to feed them."

"But I like it _here._ I like you all hard inside me," she whines pathetically and squeezes her walls around him, making his chuckle turn into a gasp.

"You too?" He regains himself enough to chuckle. "I thought that was only a Turian thing to enjoy that."

"Who wouldn't? Hell, if we could be stuck together, that'd be awesome. Like the slutty smut on the extranet."

"What?"

"What?" she deflects, not sure she really wants him to know the things she did when she was on Earth and really, _really,_ horny. "You mean you don't know Turian smut?" He gives her a look, like she's grown another head. "Knotting?"

" _Oh_ ," he drawls and smirks at her. "You know that's more our ancestors, right? I haven't known of a Turian that could knot except a couple centuries ago. It's just something we evolved not to need, I guess."

"So… what would… 'knot'?"

He hums and gently guides her off, the two trying to hurry before the babies begin to turn their slight trills and keens into all out wails. "See here?" Watching him point to the wider base of his length, she nods. "This used to fill with blood and swell just around the sheath, locking a male and female together."

"Cool." He gives her an amused look, but she pointedly ignores it as she stands and starts to dress. Looking over to him heading to the crib, she asks, "Can you watch the babies while I head down to grab their food?"

"Of course… though, I'd appreciate it if you get back before they decide daddy no longer needs his hearing."

Snorting, she pats his shoulder and heads downstairs in an undershirt, pants, and shoes without socks, figuring there's not a beauty contest being held in the middle of the night cycle. When she arrives, she's surprised to find Tali awake and sitting at the Mess with her mask in a datapad.

"Tali," she greets as she heads to the fridge to grab some food paste to heat up. "Didn't expect you up."

"Why not? Quarians don't sleep like humans," she responds with a confused, slight tilt to her head. "Our cycles are closer to Turian, though I guess Garrus has grown accustomed to human sleep cycles."

"Yes and no." Jane chuckles as she starts the heating unit. "He still gets up in the middle of the night, but knows better than to do his damn calibrations." While the babies' food heats, she heads to the table and leans against it. "I'm curious, before we left, there wasn't too much talk about Gerrel and that shit he tried to pull…"

"You mean almost getting our entire people killed?"

"Pretty much."

The young Quarian sighs and shakes her helmeted head. "The Bosh'tet isn't welcome with my people… _ever_. But nearly all the Captains in his fleet have returned to the Flotilla and pardoned after agreeing to help honor the Quarian's promise to help you."

"And the Geth?"

"Keelah, the Geth." Jane almost worries about something going horribly wrong before Tali hands her a the datapad with an image of a Quarian's suit, the limbs lit up and showing health diagnostics of some kind. "The Geth are working with us, building settlements, but even _more_ impressive? They're _integrating into our suits_." She points at something that might as well be written in Quarian than Standard and explains, "They're mimicking bacteria and foreign bodies so our bodies adapt without the actual fear of infection or serious injury. Shepard, in years, we could find ourselves outside of our suits on our own homeworld."

"Wow, that's impressive, Tali. I'm happy for you," she says, not sure, exactly, how the science works, but happy for her friend all the same.

"And it's because of you, Shepard. If you hadn't pushed to allow Legion to upgrade all Geth… we'd be no better off. Keelah, we'd be _dead_." She sniffles a bit and ducks her head, her hands wringing in her lap.

"I never wanted to have a war with the Geth," Tali finally says after a long time. "I liked Legion and, even though I wanted peace, I didn't think it'd come at the cost of a friend."

"Hey," Jane says softly and lays a hand on her shoulder. "Legion gave his people something that we, as organics, can sometimes take for granted. Don't feel guilty for something he did willingly, a sacrifice he made to bring complete freedom to his people."

"You're… you're right." She sniffs and looks up with a smile. "And some of the Geth are still interested in Haestrom like Legion was."

"Interested? How so? Because of the heretics and Reapers?" Tali nods and goes to elaborate when they are interrupted by Joker over the intercom.

"Hey, Shepard. Traynor is looking for you. Says something about Hackett? Want me to hang up on him? You know, for all the shit we did for him on the SR1?"

Jane chuckle and cracks a smile. "Let Traynor know I'll be up in a bit. Babies come first."

"Aye, aye, Commander."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SquigglySquid says: I swear, this was meant to be a purposeful chapter, but the characters and my cold thought otherwise.


	26. Chapter 26

-Garrus-

Their mission brought them to an Eezo refinery plant and fuel depot on Cyone, an Asari colony. Apparently, the plant was unresponsive when an Alliance frigate had requested permission to dock to refuel and that caused some worry.

The concern came from the nature of the facility, which actually consisted of two smaller plants- a mining and refining – and which, if not both, of the facilities' cores were non-functional _and_ why the personnel were not responding to hails. According to Hackett, if one cores were nonfunctional, it could either be a simple annoyance or a horrible catastrophe, there not being any sort of in-between.

The twin facilities worked in tandem, one pulling the unrefined, radioactive and dangerous Element Zero from the ground while the other refines it, preparing it for transport and easy management, usually going to refueling the passing ships now that the war has made such a usual luxury now scarce. Should the mining plant continue to pump Element Zero without the refinery active, it could potentially cause a meltdown of the overworked core. The Eezo from both the mining seeping into the atmosphere with that from the actual core will poison the entire colony except for those few able to get into a bunker or similarly shielded facility.

On other hand, if the active cores were reversed and it was the mining facility that was cause of the blackout, then they merely had to worry about the lack of response and _not_ the potential danger that would destroy the colony, or at least those closest to the plant. So, to say this mission was going to be tense was a severe understatement, but he was right here beside his mate no matter what, no matter the very possible possibility of everything going wrong in every which way, often times with massive amounts of damage.

That wasn't to say that they _all_ of them were quite ready for this, as Ilden's double and triple check of his suit's systems and radiation detectors were all working properly. Not that he blamed the Drell for wanting to be cautious, it's just that, in this situation, it's best to go in not knowing the level at which your gear is no longer able to shield you because, odds are, they are all dead anyways.

"Commander, we got a distress signal," Cortez announces as the shuttle draws closer to the dual plants. "Looks like a prerecorded message."

He plays it without needing to be told, the sound of static filling the cabin of the shuttle before a woman's voice starts to come from the cockpit speakers. "This is Engineer I'lana. Someone has attacked the Hestea plant and started killing everyone. Please, if anyone gets this, help. They've tampered with the core… R'hea facility is producing too much Eezo." _Dammit, worst case scenario is now realty._

"Oh Goddess," the voice whispers and Garrus has to strain to hear it. "I think they found me… if you're out there, turn on Hestea before it's too late, before R'hea goes through a full meltdown at zero, eight-"

"It cuts of there, Commander. It's stamped 0110 Cyone."

"And that is?"

"Five hours and fifteen minutes ago."

"Shit. Everyone set your HUDs for an hour and thirty minutes, just in case." Garrus hums at her words, concerned that they will be expected to drop whatever enemies they face _and_ activate a reactor in that time. "We have no idea what comes after o'eight hundred, so let's assume it's on the hour and give ourselves some cushion minutes."

Sighing, she looks to the pilot and says, "Get us close to this blacked out facility and get out of the air and as far as you can," Jane says as she puts her helmet on. "There's no guarantee a couple of soldiers and hacker will be able to start up a whole reactor core, but we'll give our damnedest."

The pilot frowns and glances back to them. "What about you three?"

"The plant should be shielded from any fallout," Garrus hopes aloud, figuring it wouldn't necessarily do for both plants to suffer the meltdown if only one goes down.

However, he would have hoped that there would be failsafes to stop this from happening in the first place, but he guesses that it's just one of those things that wasn't such a big concern when there wasn't a war currently bringing more business to this colony's fuel industry than ever before. The facility must be older than the current regulations or so new that its construction was rushed to provide much needed fuel for the war effort.

"That sounds an awful lot like you don't know for sure." The Drell in their squad frowns as he puts on his mask. "I don't know if I want to see what radiation poisoning feels like."

Jane chuckles and pats his shoulder. "Don't worry, if there's one thing we're good at, it's kicking 'impossible' in the balls."

"Coming upon the LZ," Steve Cortez warns and they stand, grabbing a hold of the hand rails to keep balance. "Looks like the whole facility is dark… looking for a way in."

"Guess the front door is out?"

Ilden hums in thought, looking to her. "If this place is a bunker as Garrus suspects, it must be able to lock down. Although… it could also be a trap."

"I'd go with that one," Garrus rumbles and opens the hatch to look out, scanning the building for somewhere that would hopefully give them at least good cover when everything starts and the bullets fly.

The facility was obviously built to be docked by only a few small transports that would then carry the fuel to the orbiting station or through the Relay to sell for other purposes. The actual dock and refining equipment was larger than the personnel building, probably only manned by a small crew at all times with additional staff coming and going depending on the need for moving cargo. _Here's to hoping the core isn't too far underground…_

"Cortez, there's a shutter on the Eastern corner of this side of the refinery. Can you get us there?"

"Aye, aye."

Jane steps to his side and looks where he's looking. "Looks like a loading dock… think we can find a way to the core with it?"

"We don't have many options… With luck, a small facility like this will have an easy access to the reactor in case something like this ever happened." He hums and looks at the shutter as they lower before it, opening his shoulder harness. Retrieving a proximity mine, he gives a nod to Jane's knowing look before starting to set it against the shutter.

Knowing what he wants to do, she looks to the pilot and orders. "In about five seconds, Garrus will give the go to move away from the building. Get us above the access so we have the upper ground, so to speak. Ilden, you and I cover Garrus while he detonates."

"I understand," the man answers as he removes his Arc Pistol, a new Quarian invention that packs a punch very similar to the Arc Projector from their work with Cerberus, only in a smaller and less ammo consuming package.

Laying the mine against the surface and twisting the upper disk of the explosive, he hears the slight pop of the concave underside sealing to the smooth surface. With explosive secured, he lays another just to make sure that they don't lose their chance at surprise and motions to 'move out'. Jane gives the order and gets into position beside Ilden while Garrus opens his Tool to set up an Overload.

He waits until the very moment the shuttle levels out, hopefully at the best angle to put them 'on higher ground', before he sends the Overload into the first mine. That proves to be the perfect ignition as one explosion causes another and the shutter doors are thrown into the building in flying pieces of metal shrapnel to slice through anything it their path.

He smirks and pulls his weapon at the sound of agonized screams from within – unlucky victims of the shrapnel he watched go flying – starting to fire in time with Jane and Ilden, taking them down one by one. They are mercenary, he discovers, when he not only notices the matching colors on their armors in his scope, but also the sort of imagery on the front of their armors as they fall from his scope.

When he assures Jane that it's clear of all but one target, he watches her Charge across the gap, slamming into the poor fool before she slams the butt of her weapon into his face. The snap is audible even from where he's still standing in the shuttle and he can't help the slight chuckle of satisfaction that vibrates in his helmet.

"All clear, get your asses in here," She says over the comm as her form stops to look down at one of the bodies.

He jumps first, able to make the larger leap before Cortez has completely stopped moving in, and the Drell soon follows, the two walking towards her as the pilot asks, "Are you sure you all will be okay?"

"The core should be shielded, so even if we can't manage to turn it on, we'll be protected for the initial blast. The residual should be taken care of by our armors so we can quickly get on the shuttle and out." Garrus, knowing his own and Jane's armor resistance to Eezo exposure, knows they won't have much problem directly after the, possible, meltdown, but Ilden was a concern because he hasn't had the time to really look into the newest tech he and Tali are now using.

"Which is also why we told you to suit up in armor," Jane adds.

"I just worry about you guys. Be careful."

Jane nods and gives a hand motion for him to leave and get as far into atmo that he can while still being within range of both the ground team and the Normandy. Once the shuttle is out of sight and their task is back at hand, they start to move deeper into the facility.

Their pace is faster, making this less a recon and more a direct assault, but he can't blame her – or even his own sense of urgency – as they hurry through the mostly empty halls. There are a few of the unaccounted for engineers in the facility as they go deeper, dead from gunshot wounds, but they find no more signs of whoever the mercenaries are and it concerns him, unnerves him in a way that makes his plates itch.

"Have you ever seen these men before? Either of you," Jane asks in a whisper as they walk through a large room with refining equipment. "I've never seen mercs with three Varren skulls on their armors."

"Not a mercenary company I know," he answers as Ilden shakes his head.

"Wonderful," she deadpans, and he doesn't know if it is because of what is said or what they find.

Without any obvious way down, they are stuck only able to use an elevator shaft, small as it is. Looking over the edge, the lift itself is completely descended, resting on a level four below their own. Assuming that the Core would be on the lowest level, their only option is to find a way down.

Ilden is the first to find their way when he points to the left side of the shaft. "Looks like we're climbing."

Biting her lip in that way she does with thinking something very stupid over, Jane nods and pats his shoulder in 'good work' before shimming along the edge towards the ladder. His gizzard is in his throat the whole time, his talons biting into his gloves, but she nearly _runs_ when she draws close enough. That doesn't help his near panic, in fact makes it worse, but he is allowed a breath of relief when her booted feet touch the rungs of the ladder.

Once she's a few steps down, she speaks. "Garrus, find a way to get over here."

"And here I left my wings on my other armor," he tries to deflect, but he watches her look up to him with a bit of worry and plea. 'Don't get yourself killed, but please don't stay here where it isn't entirely safe', that look seems to say and he can't say no to it, not when he's had a very similar look on his face and actually managed to sway her.

Sighing and breathing in to steady himself, he starts to shimmy along the edge, thanking whatever Spirits that there isn't much of a wall to push against his back to cause him to constantly have to regain balance with each step. Each step seems to get him no closer and his blood is so loud in his ears as he growls in frustration.

It's the soft singing of his beautiful mate that pulls him from his panic, slowly opening eyes and moving his feet. He isn't sure what she's saying, what words are falling from her lips, but she guides him ladder and smiles up to him when his feet find purchase on the metal rungs.

Rumbling in silent thanks, he starts to climb down above her, Ilden not too far up on the ladder himself. It takes some time to get used to a ladder clearly meant for flat footed species – or smaller feet considering this is an Asari colony – but they make it down without alerting the suspiciously gone mercenaries.

The lower level, as he expected, opens into a small hallway, perpendicular to the Lift, that leads in two directions. Weapons drawn for any sign of these missing mercenaries to reappear, they head to the door on their right that, when checked under their flashlight, announces the entrance to West Observation.

The doors, without power, are impossible to open unless he wants to use another explosive, but with the reactor most likely being within the area, it's easy to see why damaging the shielding is a bad idea. So, with no other option, Jane leads them to the other door to find it partially open enough to wedge their fingers within and, all three pulling and pushing, force it open enough for the three – quite difficultly on his part – to fit through.

What they walk into is a small Observation and Control Room for the reactor, the giant, dead machine just beyond the glass, but something tells him it's not the place they need to be. Somehow he'd expect more equipment in the room if this were the main core control, so there must be another somewhere on this level.

At least, he decides, the next door is open without too much pushing. It opens into a curved hall that wraps around the core, a sliding door on the opposite end and a hatch within that opens into the central chamber.

"This feels like a trap," Jane finally says as they find the opposite door completely sealed and unmovable. "Like we're being herded."

"Yes, it does," Ilden agrees, "But what can we do but follow? We have to activate the core before the twin core melts down in less than twenty minutes."

"Shut, only that?" He nods and she curses again, making Garrus lay a hand on his mate's shoulder.

"Calm down and think… We have two choices, stay here until the second core meltdown, then have to fight whoever is here, or fight them now and hope we can activate this core in time." Defeating the mercs is no question, they _will_ kill any and all that remain, but the only question is if they can do what they came for, to _succeed_ in their mission.

Sighing, she nods and motions Ilden to go back. "Head to the first Control Room, we might need a person there to activate something when we do it elsewhere. Garrus and I will move ahead in case there are any more Control Rooms we need to split up for. With all hopes against odds, we'll find an easy way to start the system."

He bows his head and rushes back to the Observation Room to watch as Garrus and his mate force, with quite a bit of difficulty, open the hatch and step under the intimidating, yet inactive, reactor core. He can see where the core would dispel excess energy during large surges, like a giant vent in the ceiling, and he can't help the slight shiver at the feeling of being so close.

Luckily, there seems to be only one more hatch for access within the chamber and that can only mean that they are at the end of the road, so to speak, with the facility and if they can't find a way to return power here, there's no way they can save the colony. With all the strength they have, they push at the hatch, but it barely budges, barely gives enough room for her to gain access into the pathway. It'll have to do for now and, since cores take time to power up, perhaps they can manage to bring power to the facility before activating the core and he can simply step out and they be on their way.

It beats the alternative of waiting here, alone, in the reactor chamber with a looming monster of a machine hovering over his head.

"Well, well, well," a voice calls over the intercom as the lights slowly flicker on. Garrus growls and rushing to the hatch where Jane just disappeared, only to find the red lock activate just as he grabs the bars of the wheel.

"Who the fuck are you?" He hears his wife's voice over their shared comm before he looks at the far wall of the chamber and at the second, and main, Control Room. At least ten men are within, all armed and suited in the same black green with varren skulls.

One steps forward. "We're the Hounds of Hades," he chuckles and adds, "But, you can call me Toombs, Shepard."

"Toombs?!"

Garrus takes a moment, but remembers the name. He's the man that was in her own squad on Akuze, the one she thought was lost along with the others, only to reappear with a vendetta against all Cerberus. Last they heard of the man he…

_He threatened to kill my mate!_

Growling, he charges the window and almost moves to set a charge when the man smirks with a shake of his finger. "Ah, ah, ah… you do it and she's dead." At that, at least three men raise their weapons and point at Jane, ignoring her flaring biotics and scowl.

"What the fuck do you want, Toombs?"

"I want to forget what they did to me! But I can't _do_ that! Look what they did to me!" He yanks off his helmet.

"Holy shit," she says in shock as his reveals his face, mottled and covering in blisters, open and seeping. His skin is a sickly sort of grayish green and his hair is nothing but sparse strands as his voice wheezes. "That… that couldn't have been after… Cerberus didn't-"

"It took some time, but that acid was still _in_ me, Shepard. Oh…" he adds, his milky eyes wide. "Oh, it eats away at me even now, burrowing in and gnawing at my insides. And I heard you were working for them! Imagine that!"

"She doesn't work for them anymore, you idiot." Garrus growls and scowls up through the window, then glances to Ilden's chamber, cursing inwardly that the Drell, too, is surrounded. "She's Alliance."

"It doesn't matter!" He coughs and wipes his mouth. "You claim to be all about the 'bigger picture'… you made me suffer so your Alliance looked good. Well, I'm going to test to see how close you hold your friends, your _lovers_."

Snarling, Garrus wishes he could wipe that grin off the man's decaying face because he hates that sense of panic in her eyes she'd _never_ let anyone see so long as she wore that armor. Damn him for using them against the other.

"You see, taking over this facility was actually easier than I'd imagine. Must have been the war." Toombs shrugs and sits on the chair before the terminal. "I just needed some good techs and we came in, killed the workers, and sabotaged the Cores. I knew you'd come because you're the Alliance's little poster girl." He coughs up some phlegmy blood, spitting it on Jane's boots and Garrus growls, blood boiling. "So I'm sure you know what's going to happen, right?"

"Enlighten me," she grits out, hands fisting.

"You have two choices, him," he points to Garrus, "or the couple _million_ living in the nearby cities that could potentially be exposed to Eezo poisoning? You choose them, then you push in that rod, your buddy on the other side pushing in his, and activating the core, which will probably fry it and make fueling impossible. Oohh, but that'll kill your mate in there, so better say goodbye to him. _Or_ you can be selfish, like I know you are, and spare him by _doing nothing_."

The two mates look to each other and he sees the Commander and the wife battling, knowing this will turn into a guilt she will wear for quite some time. Nodding in understanding, he silently promises it's okay, that he will forgive her. Even if no one else can.

"One thing, Toombs," she says as she steps forward, hand wrapping around the handle of the rod. "You don't know anything about me."

Flaring blue, she rips the rod from the terminal and throws it at him, sending him and at least three of his men to the ground. She slams the ground and sends them all flying just before grabbing a weapon and firing as she dives behind a terminal.

With a look back, he sees Ilden is taking care of the small group surrounding himself, his blade apparently still on his person as he uses surprise to take them down. Concluding that the Drell is fine with his three, he sets a set of all his charges on the main Control Room's viewport and activates them, internally commanding Jane to stay behind cover.

The room is suddenly filled with glass and raging Turian, piercing blue eyes searching for a single man. He finds him under a pile of bodies and, knowing his death does not belong to Archangel, drags him to his mate. "Jane. Take him."

He dropped the man directly before her before turning on the others, breaking the neck of one with a punch and a breaking another's arm so his gun is pressed to his chin as he pulls the trigger. The close quarters play beautifully to his rage as another gets to become a shield as Garrus holds him to his chest and quickly grabs his combat knife, throwing it into the tiny slat of his attacker's helmet. The final mercenary that is still able to fight after Jane's bullets and biotics and his own explosives, he grabs and trips so he can slam his head against the concrete of the floor, over and over under the helmet dents and blood seeps from under the chin.

"-And _this_ is for trying to kill my husband!" He hears the gun fire as sees her throw the weapon, nearly glowing in her own fury.

He knows this day was more taxing than anything, but he suspected she'd have wanted more from the man, more pain or sense of retribution. Saying as much, he only gets a response of 'he was already more dead than alive', but he has a feeling is has more to do with the fact that she now has the blood of millions on her delicate, pale hands.

Going to her, he takes those hands and rumbles, head pressed to hers as they hear sirens. He feels her flinch, her hands, tighten in his, but he's here, he forgives her. He knows she does not regret it because it isn't something he'd have any guilt for either. Still, there is still a pain that comes from the loss of so many… at your own hands.

"I can't believe you!" Ilden storms to them and grabs her chest plate, shaking her. "You killed those people! Poisoned countless others! You… you monster!"

Garrus growls and shoves him off. "She did what she had to."

"She _should_ have saved the many over the one."

"I _am_ ," she growls and scowls at the young man. "I give everything for this god damn galaxy. I am _not_ giving up the only damn things I have left. Perhaps you don't share that with Tali, but if Garrus goes, then I won't get a hot damn what happens to this galaxy."

"What about your children? Certainly you wouldn't just abandon them?"

"Of course I wouldn't! But you try to win a fucking war with no one to share the burden. Without Garrus, I won't by the 'Great Commander Fucking Shepard' and you want to know the truth? I don't give a damn what you think of me now, I would do it again in a heartbeat." Separating the two when there is no more need for confrontation, she adds, "And if you don't like it, get the hell off my ship when we dock on the Citadel."

"I…" Heat gone, for now, Ilden ducks his head. "I understand, Commander."

It is a good hour to two hours of awkward and tense silence, only filled with the creaks of armor, breaths, and ever present siren. When said siren finally ceases, they climb up and out of the facility, using as little of the questionable power as possible after she had ruined the Reactor controls. Once out, they test the comms.

"Come in, Cortez."

"I'm here, Commander. I… I'm sorry," he says, probably not knowing exactly _why_ it failed. "I'm still reading high levels of Eezo, but your suits are built for it, if I'm not mistaken."

Nodding, Garrus gets on. "They are, but we'd like to get back to the Normandy all the same."

"I'm on it… and hey, Shepard, you did what you could."


	27. Chapter 27

-Garrus-

Jane and Garrus, not ones for sleep lately, spend the early morning hours in bed together, she in his arms and the babies asleep on the bed between hers. Their twins are still fast asleep and the ship quiet as the Normandy comes into the Citadel to begin the long docking procedures, so it feels like just the two of them.

She hums something rhythmic as she caresses Damocles' tiny keel with her fingers and Garrus purrs, nuzzling against the back of her neck to take in her lovely scent. "What are you humming?"

"It's an old song… _very_ old," she says before humming again and he chuckles, caressing her hip.

"And what song is that?"

"All along the watchtower princes kept the view…" she sings softly, as if turning it into a lullaby of her own. "While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too… Outside in the cold distance, a wildcat did growl… Two riders were approaching, and the wind began to howl." She continues to hum and make soft, nonsensical sounds with her voice again and he smiles, glad to see this morning isn't one of the bad ones filled with empty promises and reassurances.

No, today was a good day. She still woke with a gasp and wide-eyed look, but she settled quickly after rushing to the crib to check the babies and returning to the bed to demand a deep, greedy kiss. Once she reassured herself over whatever she dreamt, she gave him a warm smile and asked to hold the babies while she took out her sketchpad and returned to something she hasn't done enough thanks to the war, draw.

Her sketching – which including said drawing of the three of them, a separate for each sleeping child, and last image of himself – done, they all curled up on the bed, spooning, and spent however long has passed just enjoying the others' company. He couldn't begin to explain how good it felt to be free of any guilt from potential bad calls over his people and stress from being expected to have a never-ending well of strength in terms of the missions they have to force their bodies and minds through.

What made this day even better was the surprise he had for her, the gift he's had on his person – or at least in his armor once he joined the Normandy crew in order to keep it secret – since he bought it nearly five months before back on Palaven. He just never could find the right time to give it to her, but with this trip to the Citadel and their agreement to celebrate an anniversary despite the triviality of actual date, he can't think of a better time than today, than the day he has planned.

Sure, he can't force her to spend the _entire_ day here because he knows she has to at least make an appearance with her Councilor – and he can't stand the man long enough to force himself to stay – so he will wait to occupy her entire evening and whatever he can manage this morning. Plus, he would bet that he won't be able to just pass by his father and sister's place to let them watch the twins without having to stay and 'socialize like a normal person' as Solana always likes to call it.

"What are you thinking about?" Such a soft question, one that could have almost slipped past him, matches the playful look he's given over a curved shoulder. "It's not that techno crap you have on your visor, but it's a classic. I can't, for the life of me, figure out why you like that shit," she adds with a chuckle.

"I can time my shots to it," he answers, then smirks. "Each song has a certain number associated to it so it's easier to keep track of how many more kills I have over you. The distance between us is so large that it's almost unfair to keep tracking it."

She narrows her eyes and her lips grow thin before she elbows him roughly, making him chuckle. "You shit head… I hate you."

"Ouch, Jane. And on our anniversary? Where went all the romance?"

"It's about to go up your ass by way of my foot," she responds with a chuckle and smile over her shoulder. "Love you."

"I love you too," he purrs as he leans forward and kisses her softly. At the movement and resulting shift in the bed, he hears the soft trilling growl from the babies and chuckles. Not that he had planned it to work out this way, but he isn't too surprised they have _finally_ awoken.

"I was wondering when the little squirts would be ready for breakfast."

Rumbling, he scents the air and coughs at the strong stench that he apparently was the first to catch, probably a sign they woke and just made their messes all at once. "Damn," he chokes out as she makes a face at smelling it too, sitting up. "We should weaponize that. This war would be over."

Snorting, she gently picks up Damcoles first. "You should head down and grab their food while I take care of this. Maybe we can even bathe them?"

He smiles at an image he wishes they could live, of the two of them sharing a warm bath with their children, but it'll have to wait. They don't know how long they have on the Citadel and he'd really rather not force the babies to be quiet long enough to be in a nice hotel room – his father's place so loud from whatever refugees managed to have the spare change to afford the less than sanitary living spaces as is, that the sound of crying babies often went unnoticed.

It _is_ , however, one of those things he promises her and himself inwardly that they will do once this war is over. Concerning those thoughts, he actually allows himself to hope, holds back his cynicism. He has to for his children _and_ his mate because, without the hopes of 'after', he isn't sure they can manage this impossible feat.

"Sure, Jane. I head down and get their food so we can feed them as soon as they're clean."

She smiles in thanks as he gets up and dresses in his undersuit, it the closest and fastest thing at the moment and one he'll just remove again to shower before starting the day. Once on, he heads down to the Mess, the room mostly empty except for some of the crew on the graveyard shift, whatever that means and for whatever reason that it has to do with the 'midnight' shift. With the present crew just wanting to eat and try something to stay up, he is able to get the food and heat it quickly before returning to the Lift and taking it up to the Loft.

When he returns, he hears his wife in the bathroom, the sink running. Setting the food on the desk by the door, he steps in and purrs at the beautiful image of Jane holding Cassia in the water with her head cradled in her palm and body laid across her forearm as she cups water in her hand and pours it gently over their daughter. Damocles is wrapped in a towel only as he sits in the carrier, 'patiently' waiting for his own bath.

"You look so beautiful with either of the twins in your arms," he says softly with a purr, watching her smile softly without looking from their daughter.

"And I've always known you'd look sexy as fuck with kids." When he rumbles in question with a raised brow plate, she chuckles with a glance over. "It was from the time I watched you speak with one of those duct kids back when we had just met. You are just good with children and a million times better with _ours._ "

Seeing her lift Cassia from the water, he grabs a fresh towel and starts to help her dry off the baby in her arms. Well, he does up until she playfully swats at his hands and motions with a stern point to their son. "Bathe little man, there, before the poor thing withers away from starvation."

They both chuckle at their shared joke about their son's habit of practically inhaling food like it would suddenly disappear and leave him without as he opens and pushes up his sleeves before he picks up little Damocles. Jane heads into the Cabin and he figures she's off to dress and start feeding their daughter, so it gives him the time to bond with his son as he lowers him into the water, holding him exactly like his mate had Cassia.

Purring as he gently pours the warm water over his son's plates, he smiles as tiny blue eyes look up and mandibles flutter to some nonsensical chirrups and trills. The water seems to calm the babies every time they bathe them, the only thing more soothing to the little babies the actual touch and close proximity of himself and Jane.

It's certainly soothing on his part to be surrounded by such peace, such contrast to the outside, that he can't help the near constant thrumming purr when he's in the Captain's Quarters every night. With his children and mate by his side, he is able to see the, as James put it, light at the end of the tunnel. Never before would he be as optimistic as he is with little Damocles in his arms and his beautiful mate and precious daughter only meters away, but they give him hope.

When their son is clean and practically shimmering in the light, he wraps him in a towel and steps out and into the main cabin. Jane is sitting on the couch, a dressed Cassia in her arms, and hums as she slowly feeds their daughter. Foregoing the clothes for now, and knowing his son well enough to want food the moment he smells his sister getting some, Garrus takes the second jar of meat and nutrient baby food and sits beside his wife in the seating area.

True to his nature, Damocles sniffs and growls in frustration, huffing in the beginnings of a cry. Rumbling, Garrus opens the jar and offers a bite on his finger, hearing that huffing stop immediately to give way to happy chirps and trills. He can't help the chuckle at the drastic shift one bite of food does and Jane seems to agree as she soon follows with her own chuckles.

"He's like you after you've drained your biotics," he observes and hears her hum in consideration to that. "You don't think…"

"That he could be biotic?" He looks to her and nods. "She'd be one too, or at least have the nodules. Why? Is there some sort of stigma against it for your people?"

"I don't give a damn what my _people_ think, I'm just concerned because I don't know what being a biotic entails."

"Well, I am not sure about Turians, but, for humans, it doesn't instantly show up. Mine didn't under I was in the Alliance." Cassia done with her food, Jane pats his thigh with her now free hand, gently rubbing in soothing motions. "Don't worry. They'll be okay whether they are biotics or not. There's nothing that can come their way whose ass we won't kick the shit out of."

He chuckles and watches as his son finishes his own food in shorter time than his sister took, shaking his head in disbelief as he gently wipes off Damocles' messy mouth plates with the towel. "What's the human saying, cross that bridge when we get to it?"

"Yep," she agrees with a smile as she stands and heads to the crib to lay Cassia down. "Here are some clothes for Damocles," coming to him, she sets down the light blue one piece outfit for their son on the small table before him, "I'm going to clean up their dirty clothes and the baby food jars." She smirks with heated eyes. "You should join me in the shower after you put Damocles to bed."

* * *

 

Now was the time, the moment he had been planning for he doesn't know how long. He's just as nervous as he was four years ago, when they started this whole experience of being _legally_ bonded.

He doesn't have any more time to worry or prepare for it, however, when he sees Jane stepping through the crowd as she makes her way to where he waits by a public skycar terminal. Even in one of those pairs of pants made of that thick, rough fabric and a long, black jacket with an almost oversized hood that drapes around her neck to help mask her identity, he thinks she is the most beautiful woman in the universe.

At that thought alone, his hand itches to reach to the pocket on his armor specifically reserved for the precious gift for her, but he stills it before she can look up and notice. Sure, this isn't the most nervous he's ever been – the first goes to this very similar situation four years ago – but it is up there. He just wants it to go _right_ , to give her a moment of peace and a chance to look like they did before even Eden Prime.

"Jane," he thrums, gizzard fluttering at the smile on her face as she draws near. "Finally free for your mate," he asks with a smirk.

She snorts and rolls her eyes. "God, what a horrible lunch. So awkward and I didn't even get to eat the meals _I_ paid for. So, what do _you_ have planned?" Smirking, she lifts a brow.

"Something that doesn't involve Reapers?"

She sighs in mock disappointment. "No fun… can I back out of this date?"

Growling in playful reprimand, he hooks a finger in the hem of her collar and pulls her closer. "You've already come, so I'm afraid you have to join. It'd be awfully rude for you not to after I bought us both lunch." To illustrate, he pats the small crate that will keep their food warm and drinks cold sitting on the transit terminal.

"Lunch? Now you're speaking my language" She chuckles and asks, "Why didn't you say so?"

He snorts with a playful rumble. "Only after the food. Should have known…" Motioning to the skycar he's reserved and packed, he purrs and picks up the crate with one hand and takes hers with the other. "Ready to see what I have planned?"

"Can't wait," she answers with a smile, eyes warm and happy. It's a look he hasn't seen enough of lately.

Helping her into the skycar, he goes around and sets the container between their seats and gets in. With a few taps into the piloting terminal, he gains full control - something he'll need where they're going - and the cab lifts into the air, merging into the speeding traffic. He may not be as bad and reckless a driver as his mate, but right now, he feels the urge to weave in and out of traffic, to get there as fast as possible.

He doesn't allow himself to, however his desire to ensure everything today is perfect taking priority.

"So, where we heading?"

"Somewhere we aren't supposed to?"

She smiles, recognition in her eyes, and he smiles with a soft rumble, loving that she would remember after four years. Although, to be honest, he doesn't doubt she would, it _was_ a very pivotal part of the both of their lives.

Sighing, she leans back in her chair and looks out the window, at the passing skycars. "It's been so long since we've gone there… You think it's still the same? Even after the rebuild?"

He chuckles and nods, knowing for certain it's still there. "The Presidium below looks a bit different, but it's still the same view," he purrs as he smiles over to her before looking back to the flow of traffic.

"I guess us being Spectres is going to take the fun out of being somewhere we aren't supposed to," she says as she takes his hand.

Chuckling, he thinks to himself, _not necessarily once you find out what I have planned for after lunch._ Instead of ruining only half, the lesser half, of the date, he merely says, "I'm sure we'll find another way to get into trouble."

"A man after my heart."

He snorts at that as he takes the skycar for a steep rise over and through the flow of traffic, heading to 'their spot' above the Presidium. Once they are flying above the highest skyways crossing over the Markets and luxury apartments of the area, he lets his own memory find the exact location of four years ago, no way he could have forgotten it.

There may not be a skyway in the same exact coordinates, but there is one right below where their old life changing destination would have been if not for the attack three years ago. He figures that, with the view just as beautiful as it was then, there is no harm not being in the exact shadow of before. Perhaps this way, they may even be able to create a whole new set of memories.

Setting the skycar down, he smiles at her and pops opens the doors. He's anxious, he won't lie, but not in worry of what she may think of this day, he knows her too well to know she'll outright hate anything that lets her relax and get away, but for the fact that he just doesn't know if he can wait that long to finally give her a gift he's held onto almost since they parted close to eight months ago, she to Earth and he to Palaven.

He climbs out of the skycar, food crate in hand, and joins her at the edge as she takes in the sight. He knows he should be looking out over the curving horizon, but the view before him is even better, the look of happiness on her face something he never sees outside their small cabin on the Normandy.

As if feeling his eyes, Jane looks to him and smiles warmly, so beautifully. It doesn't matter to him the slight red in her eyes or the artificial, perfect skin the Alliance made her wear to keep up appearances that hides the red glimmer he knows would be there because of her stresses. She is the most wonderful thing is his life and he loves her scars as much as she loves his, even those not visible to his eyes.

Stepping closer to him, she takes his free hand and squeezes. "The view is just like I remember."

"It's incredible," he says with a purr as he squeezes back, still never looking away from her.

She chuckles as she playfully runs her hand along his chest piece. "Oh? Being with you, even the shittiest alley in Omega would look like paradise."

"Then we should work on your idea of 'paradise'," he deadpans and she snorts. "Now, how about we eat before it gets cold?"

Nodding, she pulls him behind her as she leads him from the ledge, yanking him to sit in a rush. He chuckles as they almost collapse on the ground in a mess of limbs, correcting his fall into an ungraceful sit with a thump of his armored rear on the metal of the skywalk roof.

Once they situate themselves, she sitting against his side and touching from shoulder to the tips of their booted feet, he opens the crate and hands her, first, one of the slightly fruity beers she likes, it's dark red color shimmering in the artificial sun. Next is a cold Turian ale for himself and he sets it down at his side to gently lift out their food.

Sure, it's a bit heavy for lunch but he's bought the same meals he did for them on their first, acknowledged, 'date' after his mother's obvious urgings that rang like mere worry for his finances. It was a long time ago, but he remembers her favorite, a meal with something called 'shrimp' that look like little white, curled up headless slugs, a red spicy red sauce, and noodles. He even got Xemna with puréed Yurek roots, as he had that night they shared this meal on the floor of his small apartment.

"Holy shit," she says as he hands hers over and she opens it to see the contents. "You got Diavolo?" Smiling, she leans over and kisses his plated cheek. "You're awesome… But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"No doubt," he agrees with a chuckle and presses his forehead to her temple as he opens his own meal. "Now eat. Wouldn't want it all to go cold."

"Hell, I'd still eat it," she assures with a chuckle, starting to eat with vigor. "So goof."

He shorts around his food and lifts his head to swallow. "Should we start learning manners before the kids get to the age where they can start following their mother's example."

"I think we'll have a bigger problem with the whole 'weapons in every corner of the room' thing first," she responds with a smirk.

"Or your colorful language…"

She laughs and elbows him playfully. "Hey, it'll give them character."

"It'll make them sound like mercs," he corrects with a chuckle and swallows more food. "Or, at least, like most mercenaries. Regiux doesn't count."

Humming in agreement, she swallows another bite and finishes off her bottle, to which he offers another. "I will admit talking with him helps see Saren in a better light. Granted, he still sounds like a prick."

"Have you told Arcanus about his arm?" He chuckles at the memory of watching the rogue Spectre suddenly be minus one arm thanks to the high powered rifle meant to take down Geth armatures, not flesh, plate, and bone.

She snorts with a face. "You shitty me? Hell no." Chuckling, she tips her beer and he follows with his ale. "To that monstrosity of a weapon you carry around."

"To the woman that it barely compares to out on the field," he sends right back as they clink their weapons and drink.

With lunch practically disappearing from one moment to the next and a small set of bottles to join, he watches her stretch and lean back on her hands. "Damn," she says with a satisfied sigh. "That was a fucking fantastic break from all the shit," she motions vaguely with her hand, "out there."

"That's not even half of what I had planned, Jane."

She lifts a brow and smirks. "What next? A nice swim in the lake, cannonball contest? I bet you'd flop horrifically."

With a flick of his mandible, he buzzes in feigned unamusement. "Afraid it'd be less swimming and more flailing with the occasional bout of drowning-"

"Way to ruin my fun." She chuckles and watches as he stands. "We heading out?" She asks as he walks to the skycar to retrieve the rest of the cargo he had packed up before she met up with him.

"Of course not. If I remember correctly, I had you for the entire rest of the day." He growls in promise and removes the practice rifles from the cargo hatch. "Now, I believe it's time we see how skilled you are _really_ are at long range."

She snorts and rolls her eyes. "I told her, I'm a Jack of all trades. I just _choose_ not to use a sniper rifle else I'd only have you around for your looks."

"Oh, so it's a punishment? Now the truth comes out."

Sharing in her chuckle, he helps her up to her feet and hands over the rifle he calibrated for human use. He picks up a bottle and tosses it in his hand, feeling the weight.

"Alright, let's start easy," he says as he cocks his hand back. "And don't worry, those aren't live rounds," he adds with a slight smirk, taking pleasure in the slight twitch of annoyance in her lips.

Taking his step forward, he throws the bottle with less strength than he has planned to later, actually wanting to see what she can do with a gradual increase of difficulty. She fires and the bottle shatters, her lips quirking in a smirk, but that won't do, now will it?

"Easy one," he dismisses playfully, grabbing another bottle. "Now let's try something you'll actually see in the field."

"Don't give me another pussy throw this time," she challenges with a smirk and he chuckles, deciding to do just that.

Taking a step back, he leans and sights out his trajectory. With a single step forward, he throws out all his momentum and releases, the bottle spinning end over end into the horizon. At it flies, his trained ears listen for the slight inhale and exhale, hearing it slightly off before she fires.

Despite her being off on the timing and breathing, she manages the shot just as the bottle peaks and begins to drop. A good shot for a self-proclaimed 'bad' sniper, but her impatience definitely shows, so he'd never force it on her except in play. Her training is good and she hasn't _lost_ touch with what she was taught, but it's just not who his wife is, and he wouldn't want her any other way.

"Alright, my turn," she says, pulling him from his thoughts and walking to set her weapon down. "And I'm not going easy on you, asshole. It's only fair considering this is what you're _supposed_ to be good at," she adds when he gives her a raised brow plate.

Chuckling, he raises his rifle to his shoulder and nods in 'go ahead'. He doesn't look away from the sight as she moves, but he hears her weigh the bottle as he had done and prepares. "Let's see what you got, Jane. Give me a hard one."

He hears her snort and take a step back, then another before the bottle goes flying through the air. She definitely has the ability to throw even without her biotics, he'll give her that, but he's been trained for this and shatters the bottle easily.

"I said a hard one!" He mock complains as he chuckles, handing her another bottle. "Try again."

"I'm _going_ to send biotics if you keep showboating."

"I'll still manage it," he challenges with a smirk, mock growling and knowing exactly what he has planned next.

Seeing the way she narrows her eyes in the closest thing to a pout she'll ever do, he watches her glow blue. "Prepare your asses, people…" she warns to no one and takes a step away from the ledge.

Lifting the rifle to his shoulder, he rumbles the signal for her to throw and calms his breath. This has to be played perfectly to work because he knows she can read him all too well and this isn't so much a contest, but a means to help her relax, find cheer in a galaxy lacking it right now.

When she throws the glowing bottle, he knows he can still fire upon it - his pride lets him admit he can get a hit on _anything_ his weapon is technically capable of - but he doesn't. Instead of firing at the exact moment between breaths, he forces himself to make a fatal mistake he hasn't made since a young fledgling learning to fire his own rifle out in the fields by his father's insistence. That one little _mistake_ sends the blank round flying off course, missing the target, and he hears Jane gasp, then release a shout of victory.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you just miss?" she asks in mock concern before grinning. "I think you did! Take that, Vakarian!" She cheers and spins in a ridiculous little dance that makes him chuckle, his wife looking so young and innocent like this.

"I must not have taken the wind into consideration…"

She doesn't hear him, too wrapped up in her joy before she spins and faces him with a smirk. "My big bad Archangel, getting old and inaccurate. But don't worry, I can certainly find _other_ uses for you."

He growls at her seductive tone and sets his weapon down, going to her to take her hands. Now is the moment, the real reason he brought her up here, wanted to play out this entire 'anniversary' idea. For months, his gift has been burning a hole in his armor, but now, now he can finally soothe that fire of nerves and impatience.

"Jane?" He squeezes her hands before releasing her right to reach into the pouch of his armor. "There's one more thing I had planned for today." At her smile, he thrums deeply and removes the small pouch. "I know that you don't mentioning it, but I also know that your rings were lost on Alchera." Seeing her frown at that, he presses his forehead to hers and whispers, "So I thought I'd fix that problem."

"Garrus… You…"

Opening the pouch, he removes the small ring, a stone more valuable than anything he's ever seen held atop in a small clasp. The stone, translucent around the edges with a black center and deep purples and blues weaved through like liquid smoke, is something only found in the deepest waters of his planet and, up until the day he first saw it, something most don't even know about.

For him, it was a perfect visual representation of everything he would give to her.

"I promised you I'd give you the Galaxy if it could fit in our hands," he says as he takes her hand and slips the ring onto her finger. "But, for now, you'll have to settle for a tiny piece of it."

He watches as her eyes glisten and she smiles at the stone that looks like it holds a tiny fallacy within, then looks straight into his eyes and he can see all the things she can't say, can't find but three words for. "I love you."

"I love you too, Jane. I would give the universe for you," he chuckles softly, "but I can settle for giving it _to_ you."

With the surprising strength held in her tiny body, she pulls his face down to her level, kissing him deeply. He purrs and gladly opens his mouth for her seeking tongue, wrapping with his own and tangling his hands in her hair.

All the little sounds from her lips as they touch and kiss urge him on, make his armor too hot and too tight, and he starts to guide her back towards the skycar. She quickly understands the unspoken request and pulls him, breaking apart only to open the hatch before they practically fall into the seats, mouths hungrily feasting on the other.

"Ready for your anniversary gift?" She whispers against his ear before running her tongue along his scarred hide.

The only thing he can produce as answer is a growling moan and lift of his chin for more, but she understands completely, gently guiding him to sit as she starts to unzip her jacket.

What he sees beneath is nothing but a tightly wrapped piece of clothing he _knows_ isn't standard wear for a human to have under their jacket, but he isn't complaining. In fact, his armor is even more painful the more of her skin and that tantalizing garment she reveals in colors of black, red, and white.

He can't wait any longer, removing his codpiece with a sigh the moment her pants and jacket are off. Seeing her smirk at his tented undersuit as agreement enough, he leans over her, guiding her to lay on the seats. With a growl, he traces the laces tautly tied along her front, starting beneath her breasts and down to where it stops just above her revealing lace underwear.

" _How_ were you hiding this?"

She chuckles huskily, gasping when his hand drops to her folds soaking through the flimsy fabric. How she managed to mask her scent with this much fluids already present, he doesn't know, but has a feeling it has to do with the the strong, artificial fragrance on her pants laying on the floor of the skycar.

"Perfume and lots of willpower," she explains breathlessly and cups his face, kissing him again.

He groans in need when he feels her grow ever wetter beneath his talons, throbbing in his undersuit whose weave feels like sand against his length. With a pleading thrum, he ducks his mouth to lap at her pulse and begs, "Please, Jane. I need you."

"You have me, Garrus. You've always had me."

Moaning, he drops his hands to his undersuit and nearly rips away weave as he releases himself, wet and practically dripping onto her and the seat in anticipation. Not wasting time with undressing, he pushes aside her panties, lines up, and pushes in, spreading her around his erection with a growl and high whine from her lips.

Not even seated within her, he's so close, panting and gripping the seats as he tries to calm, to savor this. In this pause, he licks at her neck, groaning each time a pass of his tongue sends her walls aflutter. He wouldn't dare look down, see her stretched around him, for it'd be the end, but he can't stop her from speaking, from making this harder.

"Fuck, you feel so good. Even now, each time stretches me to make you fit. That pinch of slight pain because you're so thick-"

"Jane, please…"

"Fuck me, then, Garrus. Stop holding back."

Snarling when she forces her walls to squeeze him in a tight, vice-like grip, he starts to move. The seats' coverings creak under them and their voices spin and tangle, but the loudest, and most obscene, sound is the wet suck and smack of their joining, the two of them so desperate for release. Their bodies and voices are so loud he almost misses the slight tapping that is out of sync with his thrusts.

'Almost', in that he just manages to catch it before a voice calls out, "C-Sec, stop what you're doing and make yourselves decent."

"Fuck."

"Dammit," he growls and sits up, never leaving her as her legs wrap around his waist in plea to not stop, don't leave her. _As if that were a thought that crossed my mind_.

Growling, he lowers the window to see a man he thought worked Investigations, a man he, sort of, had a hand in training two years ago. That was, until his life was suddenly crumbling down around him and he lost all will to live, let alone play nice while being strangled by red tape.

"Vakarian?" Officer Crux, he isn't sure the rank anymore thanks to the most likely borrowed patrol uniform. _So he must be working because of the refugee situation pulling all staff._ "Is that you? Spirits, it's been _two_ years."

"It has… Now, do you mind?" He gives a growling thrum in explanation and the man's eyes widen.

"So you really… Damn. You know it's against regulations to be up here-"

"Then give him the fucking 'Spectre' talk, Garrus, and get back to fucking me." He chuckles at his mate and moves his body to make sure he shields her from eyes not his own, thrusting his hips shallowly to make her moan.

Crux clears his throat nervously, obviously reading the possessive stance in Garrus' body language and clearly uncomfortable with the added situation that they don't give a damn to stop. "Uh… well… we have reports, too, of weapons fire…" He - Darius, if Garrus remembers correctly, which might come in handy very soon to get them out – rubs his neck and trills in submission to the male staking his claim on his own mate. "I don't think Spectre status qualifies-"

"Darius, right?" Garrus pants, not breaking stride as he grips Jane's hips, and continues at the nod in affirmation. "You can check that the weapons fired were using… nonlethal rounds. Over there… And as for everything else," a loud moan both mates share as she arches under him, legs tightening around his waist, "you can either try to run us in once we're done _or_ you can forget this. Save us the time… and wasted patience."

Humming in nerves and thought, trying to decipher the truth and manipulation, Crux reluctantly nods. "Yeah… yeah, you're right. But can you at least get down from here?"

The man won't look up from a very interesting spot on the side of the skycar's hatch and Garrus knows there's no real argument when he says, "When we're done?"

He sighs, but looks up to give Garrus a quick, terse nod in acquiescence. At that, Crux leaves with more than a little haste, most likely trying to get away from the clearly tense situation of being in the vicinity of a mating pair. A pair of very possessive, violent individual, but who can blame Garrus for wanting the strong woman below and beneath him all to himself?

"Fuck, you're sexy when you manipulate people," Jane says as she pulls him down, using her strong legs to lift herself, thrusting over him from below. "Now finish what you started."

He has no arguments there as he starts hammering into her with growls and moans, her lips to his ear gasping and moaning in her higher, sweet voice. It doesn't take long, the two of them so close before this started and not at all affected by the interruption, as evident by their continued movements.

He cums with a roar as she matches his voice with a scream, her thighs and walls constricting him, milking him of everything he has. With no idea how long he lasts inside her, he finally comes down to the strong smell of their combined orgasms and her sweet, clean sweat from the heat they built up in the enclosed cabin.

Their breaths are short as he smirks with a growing purr and says, "Happy... Anniversary… Jane."

She answers him with a smile, pulling him down and into a deep, loving kiss with dancing tongues curling around the other, and it's all he needs to know to understand that this, right here, is all that matter at least for this one moment, this one day. Let them be soldiers tomorrow, today and tonight is their time to be _themselves_.


	28. Chapter 28

-Jane-

Leviathan...

What a giant clusterfuck. Of course, so was anything dealing with the mind-bending Indoctrination, wasn't it?

Without any real idea _what_ the artifact actually was – Ann Bryson had many theories – they only knew _how_ it affected people. Well, that, and how to apparently destroy the connection between this unique Reaper and its thralls, but what _isn't_ fixed with bullets and destroying shit?

Jane hadn't been able to stick to Bryson's explanation of the artifact's effects and capability to control, but she had caught something about a sort of subliminal control that affects the brain through invisible light and inaudible, even to the species with the best of hearing. She thinks she remembers Ann stating it was along the lines of infrared light and low frequency sound to subtly suggest and control subconsciously.

After that, she was lost to the way side as Bryson explained how to track the Leviathan through the artifact, but only as it used that very low frequency control against her. Hesitant at first by the fact that the scientist was putting herself at risk while they tried to pinpoint, Jane agreed – due in no small part to her mate, there by her side in the lab and solely responsible for tracking down all the clues in order to proceed as far as they did – and, thankfully, they were left with a location without completely killing the woman or sending her into a coma.

She's sure James wasn't too happy with their decision to continue the, plain and simple, torture despite Ann's insistence it was alright as he carried her away, but Jane had no choice. They were racing against the Reapers and time, concerned the Leviathan may move once it realizes the forces closing in. He knows the difficulty of choice and, if he doesn't, he'll be thrown plenty more as an N-7 where it's a 'damned if you, damned if you don't' situation.

The tracking lead them to a planet called Despoina, and trying to land on Despoina brought them down in the middle of a gigantic ocean with nothing but the bare skeleton of a ship she didn't even recognize as their life boat. Their shuttle was fried to shit and they were starting to believe that the very pulse that brought them down was the exact one that doomed all the other vessels littering the waves.

It also seemed that the Reapers either followed their trail or managed a way to track the Leviathan on their own when they caught them under the effect of an artifact back at Ann Bryson's dig site. It would make sense to have taken them this long to find Despoina as Jane and her squad had destroyed the artifact before the Reapers could finish their tracking.

"Commander, I'm airborne!" Cortez calls out as the first of a pack of Brutes falls to their assault.

"Great," she shouts into the comm as she sends husks flying into the water, trying to guide another of the massive beasts to her in attempt to get it to charge her and straight into the sea. "Give us some covering fire."

"Copy that."

With a roar, the Brute does exactly as she hopes and juts its shoulder forward as it charges, heading right for her. Rolling, she dodges at the last minutes and hears the loud splash at it goes over the edge, sputtering for just a split second before the metal in its body drags it downward, into the depths. "One down. Javik, Vega, status."

"Esteban got us covered, Lola!"

"Garrus?"

"Dropped one!"

 _Show off,_ she thinks with a smirk as she tosses another Reaper trooper off the ship, too sick from the constant motion to do much tactical thinking besides the alternating shotgun fire and biotic sweeping of the deck.

She feels the tingle over her skin, lifting the hairs on her body under her suit and armor, before she sees it, the pulse like a wave of static energy. She knows the pilot is going down before she hears it, motions her squad to fight through to the other side of the ship, and does everything she can to convince whatever divine entities that may exist that Cortez can manage not sending the shuttle straight into the ocean.

Despite managing to save it, the shuttle was a damn mess, the Normandy was out of the question, and they had no way to get off this hell hole unless they found the Leviathan and shut down whatever defense it had that was frying their only way out. However, they _might_ have a shot of getting into the water thanks to a deep sea diving mech, one they have to _get_ to in the first place, but it's currently locked in the cargo hold of a long since dead ship.

"These old Ballard-class ships are equipped with exterior power sockets. We can strip the cells from the shuttle and use those for juice."

"You're not draining our only way out, are you?" She raises a brow as he hands her a large, cylindrical cell that she attaches to the magnetic holster for the shotgun in her hands.

Steve shakes his head as Garrus comes forward for a cell to carry, the idea to share the burden of powering the ship actually a damn good one. She nods in 'good idea' as the pilot explains, "These cells are for refueling planetside should we use up those within it and on reserve."

She nods and looks to her mate. "Take Javik to cover you and I'll take Vega."

"Let's see how fast those little legs of yours can go," he says with a smirk as he bumps his forehead helmet to hers.

"Don't slip on the wet hull and make a fool of yourself," she snaps back playfully as she hops over the jut of metal they're using for cover.

James is right on her six, opening fire at anything that comes near, and she can see the flash of blue and red sprinting along the opposite end of the floating ship, heading towards another power inlet. With James keeping the Reapers off her back, she grabs the hand of the old power cell and twists the entire thing, hearing it hiss and eject. She just tosses the spent cell aside as she unhooks the one on her back and inserts it, pushing it in hurriedly and turning it to lock it in place.

The external diagnostics must be a good sign as she calls through the comm, running through the heavy spray of the sea and rain. "Where are we on power?"

"Fifty-three percent on my readings," Garrus says over the channel as he slides over Cortez's cover before she does, grabbing another power cell. He nods to her as he runs past and she quickly grabs what she hopes in the last power cell, figuring if two brought it to fifty percent, then four will completely power the system.

Fourth and final power cell in place, the doors to the cargo bay start to open with a grinding, rusted metal on rusted metal. She _really_ hopes that the oxidization hasn't gotten to the mech, to eat away at the electronics, or any of it, really.

There isn't time to hope, not will so many of the Reapers' forces on her ass. Climbing into the huge compartment, big enough for two people or a really big Krogan, she looks of the controls before quickly finding the mining equipment's command console.

Ever the one to turn anything into a weapon, Jane fires a torpedo at a Brute coming up on Jame's three o'clock, turning it into nothing but chunks of flesh and tech, splattering it on a squawking, surprised Lieutenant. Garrus closes in on her position, ducking behind the mech to return fire on the smaller, incoming Reapers as she handles the large Brutes.

"Jane, you need to move this damn mech," Garrus growls over the comm as a husk is grabbed by Javik's biotics and sent flying overhead.

"I don't know how to use this damn thing. All these controls are for the mining equipment!" She taps some commands and the clasping claw on the Titan's other hand snaps shut. "This piece of shit is useless, Cortez!"

"It must be a two-manned underwater mech." His voice is heard over the gunfire. "You need-"

"I'm on it," her mate interrupts, understanding without thought what needs to be done as he hits the hatch release with a fist and climbs into the mech, sitting directly in front and slightly under her.

She'd never have thought, but should have given the size of this cockpit, that a machine in need of two pilots would exist. Yet, as soon as Garrus gets into the front seat, the systems' heads up display haloing his head, the mech begins to move under his hands. With the taps of his gloves hands, the Titan begins to move, walking out of the cargo bay and towards the cluster of Husks heading their way.

"Take them out, Jane." He growls as he draws close and she knows exactly what he wants, what he's setting them up for.

Swinging the grasping arm, they send the Husks and their Marauder commander flying to crash into the jutting pieces of hull of the ship. Doing so puts them in the way of a Brute, but, thanks to Garrus' controls, the Titan side steps and turns into the hit so that they only receive a minor scrape of metal on Reaperized flesh.

Spinning, she reaches the mech's clasping hand into the cage of its fleshless hump and closes the claw around its spine, pulling. With a sickening, wet shucking, it comes free and the creature roars a sound of so much pain Jane actually flinches at it, her ears ringing with the echo of its screeching bellow. Throwing the bloody mass of innards, they take down the incoming cannibals, finally clearing the deck.

For now, at least. There is still the possibility of the Reaper floating above in the clouds, like some malevolent, old god, sending down more of its pawns to rid this dead ship of its passengers before it moves on the Leviathan.

Taking to the Titan to Cortez to run a quick systems check, they both climb out and she turns to her mate. "Garrus-"

"You're not going alone."

His voice broaches no protest, but, surprisingly, she doesn't have any. What would be the point considering that she can't go down alone in that two-man mech anyways? And, isn't he the one she'd want working in tandem with her down in the middle of the entirely different universe than their own deep within the ocean?

"You think you can handle the thought of being that deep?" she asks as she motions the water. "I've heard Turians and water don't mix."

"And miss out on the fun?"

James and Javik are panting as they approach, the fact of running interference not an easy task. Vega is the first to speak when he shakes his head with a stunned look of disbelief on his face. "You two pendejos are loco. Dios, you're going down there?"

"Commander," Javik intercepts with eyes scanning over the both of them. "It is foolish for both leaders of the Normandy to participate in this plan because of your biological urge to mate."

She snorts and chuckles. "We won't be fucking in the Titan, don't worry."

"The only way off this planet is through the Leviathan," Garrus adds as he removes his helmet and attaches to his armor to better use the mech. She, too, removes her helmet as she knows full well how restricting it was when they were just using the mech. Better to be prepared for anything down there, and full peripherals is key.

"Seals check out, you two," Cortez announces as he rounds the mech, checking his Omni-Tool. "Oxygen pressure is normal. Systems are a go." He looks up with a worried look. "It's as ready as I can make it… Promise us you'll be careful down there."

"It's going to take more than a little water to scare us, right Garrus?" Her mate growls and nods, closing the hatch and reactivating their HUDs. "Testing communications. Ground crew, respond."

"We hear you, Commander," Cortez confirms. "Should all be pretty straight forward. You have a radar synced up with the probe, so just head for it. That Titan can take five thousand atmospheres before you start to run into problems, so don't worry."

"That's if these piece of shit hasn't rotted out," she adds and Garrus gives her a look over his shoulder, eyes narrowed, but keeps walking the Titan towards the edge of the floating ship. "What? Like you can talk, Mister Cynic."

"No, I tend to keep it to myself."

She snorts at that as they take the dive off the edge. Feeling her mate tense at the splash and quickly disappearing surface above, she runs a hand along his fringe. "It's alright. I'm here, Garrus."

He huffs a nervous laugh, not looking from the viewport. "Did I tell you why that stone was so rare? You know, the one on your ring?"

"No," she chuckles. "But if it helps to ease your nerves…"

He nods and swallows thickly, eyes still staring out at the darkening waters as they drop deeper under his commands and nearly catatonic hand movements. "They… they come from the deepest waters we can traverse. With our, you know, _adversity_ towards water, it took Turians a very long time to even find them and, now, there aren't many because there aren't people willing to… go down."

"You're one of the trailblazers. This mean you're going to start mining… what's this called?"

" _Viae Umbra_." He hums and glances back quickly before ducking his head to look solely at the console. "But mostly we just call it _Umbra_."

She smiles and, releasing the commands for the equipment they don't need descending through the dark, hugs him as best she can in their positions. Hearing his soft rumble of reassurance, she kisses his cheek. It is a near exact role reversal of her walk through open space before the Geth Dreadnought and she's here, here to repay the favor.

"You're doing great," she says softly as they draw closer and closer to the beacon from the probe. "You can take on mercenaries and Reapers. This shit is nothing.

"I wish I had your confidence," he whispers and she shakes her head.

"You don't need it," she repeats his words from before, pressing her cheek to his and hugging him tighter. "You just trust in mine and I will keep you safe."

He chuckles weakly and finally looks to her. "That was my pep talk. You can't just use my own pep talk on me."

"Well, I did, so tough titties." She smiles as his second chuckle and sits up, seeing them closing in on something in the radar. By the looks, and taking her lack of being able to read something like this in mind, it seems to be a section of ground about two-hundred meters away and above the probe.

"Comm… r? Something… blocking signal… Pl… re… ond…"

Static comes over the communications channel before nothing, the two mates looking to the other in silent question of it that's a bad sign, but they don't dwell on it as the Titan comes in contact with solid ground beneath its mechanical feet. They both grunt at the sudden stop, the momentum making them both smack their armors against the console before them.

"Fucking hell. You good?"

"I am. And you?"

"Fantastic," she deadpans as she unconsciously rubs her chest plate as if she could rub her own chest, rub the soreness away. Tapping the comm, she calls out, just in case. "Don't know if you can hear us, but we've reached what seems like ground above another trench. We can't see much down here, but," she looks around her console for some sort of light, finding a flare launcher up on the console above her head, firing a light for Garrus to follow, "the suit, well, it held?"

"We're running on emergency systems," he adds before looking to her with a frown. "This might not last very long."

Nodding, she closes the comm and lays a hand on his shoulder. Not the way she'd want to go, but they have to at least _try_ to get off this damn planet. If that means they die trying, trapped underwater until they either run out of air or are crushed by the pressure, then so be it.

"I'm not dying down here," he growls as he stops the mech and types determinedly on his command console. "Shutting off all nonessential systems to reserve power for the emergency thrusters."

She smiles and lays a hand on his fringe. "Always thinking. I knew I kept you around for something."

He snorts and motions to the radar. "Your arms are shut down for now aside from the flares, so keep an eye on our surroundings."

"Right. Would be the shits if something was down here… besides the Leviathan."

Looking out of the thick viewport, she gapes in awe at the other world below. Giant creatures swim through the dark waters, glowing with their own light as they seem weightless, even iridescent in some places. Even the plants down here don't look like anything she's ever seen before, spindling and swaying to a breeze that doesn't exist.

"It's incredible." She can hear the awe in her own husband's voice as he controls the Titan. "I never knew there could be life down here. I thought Kahje was unique in having aquatic life."

"Earth used to have lots of life, but over pollution a long time ago destroyed most life, on land _and_ in the water."

He nods in understanding as he looks down to his radar. "The probe is directly below us now." Taking a deep breath, he looks up over his shoulder to her. "You ready for this?"

Giving a quick nod, she looks in his eyes. "Let's finally see this fucker. No more hiding."

With a rumbling smirk in agreement, he turns back to the commands and takes the mech to the final descent. They drop into a sort of underground cavern that dives to even greater depths, depths that even the Titan can't descend to, and they can see the probe just before them, mere meters away.

Having nowhere to go but forward in hopes their quarry is close, she stares out of the view as they draw closer to the ledge. There is no way they would survive another drop, to go deeper, so it's either now or never for the damn Leviathan to show itself.

Reaching to the flare command, even those steadily decreasing in number, she launches a flare, sending it out and down, down into the cavern below. Garrus gives her a raised brow at her miss of anything to actually light their way and she just glares, no willing to admit she just wasted a flare.

Or maybe she didn't, she thinks as the radar starts to light up with life, alerting them to something _massive_ coming their way by way of that deep, dark pit below. Millions upon millions of bubbles begin to rise, blinding their vision as something very huge and very dark, rises to greet them.

If there was one thing that the radar did and didn't get right, it was the sheer _size_ of what they were seeing. It _was_ massive, as big as… as Sovereign.

It was a Reaper, yet, not. Even one look at it proved that. Where the Reapers were all sleek metal and smooth synthetics, this thing was sharp edges and organic plates. It wasn't a Reaper, it was something else.

Something she couldn't quite stop to think on as the Titan's cockpit goes cold, cold with an icy chill that seems to emanate not from without, but from within, within _her_. From the way Garrus pulls his arms closer to his body to retain heat, he feels it too.

"You have come too far," a booming voice _from within her own head_ speaks and some part of her knows where the source is, but she doesn't want to admit it, doesn't want acknowledge what that could mean for her. "This is not your domain. You have breached the darkness."

"You killed a Reaper," Garrus says and she looks to him, finally seeing that he too can hear the thing within his head as she can, can feel the darkness starting to pool in around the edges of her vision. "We need to know why."

"They are the enemy. One that seeks our extermination."

Jane sees a flash of nothing but empty darkness, no longer feels the mech around her, but shakes it off as she scowls. "So you aren't a Reaper." Garrus looks to her in silent question and she nods. _Yes, I see, hear, and feel it too_.

"They are only echoes. We existed long before. We are something more."

That pounding cold and darkness engulfs her, throwing her to a ground that wasn't beneath her feet before. She stands on a water as black as night, yet light enough to see the individual ripples in as someone approaches. How she can see through the darkness when she looks up to find her mate offering a hand, she will never understand, but she is starting to understand what all the victims of the Leviathan meant by 'being somewhere cold and dark'.

She really hopes this is _her_ Garrus as he asks, "You okay?" with a concerned rumble, his mandibles drawn close in his own pain. _So he feels the headache too_ …

"Your minds belong to me," that same voice says as Ann Bryson approaches or, at least, that's what this thing apparently wants them to see. "Your memories give voice to our words. Your nature will be revealed to us." Jane scowls at that and Garrus growls. "Accept this."

"Fuck you," she snaps back at it. "Why are you hiding in the fucking ocean instead of fighting?"

"There is no fighting. There is only the harvest." 'Ann' starts to circle them, disappearing into the darkness and reappearing in moments as another, this time as Bryson's assistant, the man who pulled the trigger outside of her own will thanks to this creature. "None have possessed the strength and knowledge in the past cycles. Your own species could be destroyed with a single thought." The image blurs as it passed between her and her mate, morphing into Garneau in an instant. "But you are both different. I have witnessed your actions in this cycle; standing in defiance against the Reapers as one entity. They perceive you and your mutual bonding as a threat. And I must understand why."

She doesn't give some cheesy shit like, 'love conquers all' or something else from some kind of vid and, instead, answers the only way she can. "Because we don't hide like cowards-"

Feeling a stabbing pain in reprimand, she and her husband both gasp and fall to their knees, as if their minds _and_ bodies are connected. She even _feels_ his anger, like a slow burn in the middle of all the cold. "Damn," he growls as he grips his head, looking to her in concern and reaching over to wipe something from her upper lip with a concerned rumble. She, too, frowns and reaches over to wipe the blood leaking from his nose when feet approach, a form sitting, nonchalantly beside them.

"Before the cycles, our kind was the apex of life in the galaxy." She looks to it and sees a man she doesn't recognize but for the uniform, one from T-GES Mineral Works, where people had lost ten years of their lives thanks to the Leviathan. "The lesser species were in our thrall, serving our needs."

_So you were fucking pricks in your time. Surprise, surprise…_

"We grew more powerful, and they were cared for. But we could not protect them from death." It looks to them and shifts, now, to an Asari miner. "Over time, stars giving life to their systems began to die and they began to fall. Tribute does not flow from a dead race."

Deep down, she feels her mate's anger, hears his thoughts. _All you cared about was your 'tribute'? You disgraceful-_

 _Pieces of shit?_ She supplies and feels his agreement, smirking within.

"To solve this problem, we created an intelligence with the mandate to observe and discover the cause of this death, to preserve life at any cost. As the intelligence evolved, it studied the galaxy, stars, and civilizations. Its understanding grew until it found a solution." It shifts to a Turian miner, dropping its head. "In that instant, it betrayed us. It chose our kind as the first harvest. From our essence, the first Reaper was created. You call it Harbinger."

"But _why_?" She steps forward, frowning in confusion. "Why harvest living things if you created it to preserve life?"

"Its solution was not revealed to us before it began the harvest."

"So you don't even know why stars were dying?" Garrus growls and he grabs for the image of the Turian, it dissipating to nothing but darkness and reappearing again as Ann. "Some 'apex race'."

First to react is Garrus as he groans and drops to the ground, then Jane feels it intense pain radiating from her temples. _Okay, so they don't like being provoked…_

"The… Crucible," she pants through the pain. "Tell me you know of it…"

It pauses before reappearing, this time, as _herself_. That gets her mate growling, but he doesn't speak, yet. "We have watched its construction before. Is has never been completed. Those who have tried still fell victim to the harvest. Its outcome is unknown."

_It doesn't know what the Crucible is, Jane._

_Then I'm guessing it has nothing more to give us._

It _made_ the very thing that ended up making the Reapers, that's been manipulating the entire galaxy through the Relays, the harvesting, everything. On top of that, it hasn't held back on admitting that it, once it rises again – _if_ it ever rises, which is won't if she has any say – will enslave people all over again. Should it really be one of those things they let out of the box?

_No, I don't think we should._

Agreeing with her husband, she decides to at least put on an unassuming face as she steps closer to the thing that then shifts to carry the face of her own husband. "If you want to become this apex race again, you have to fight."

"I have searched your minds. You are an anomaly, but it is not enough to see need to reveal ourselves when you will fail. The cycle will continue."

"Then let us out and we'll show you just how different this cycle really is." _Just release us so we can get off this fucking planet._

"You will remain here as servants to our needs. The Reapers will harvest the rest-"

"Fuck you," she snaps. "Release us and _we'll_ fix you fucking mess because you're too afraid to fight. And don't even try to shut me up with pain because I'll just keep talking."

Rumbling, Garrus stands beside her and stares at the image of himself. "The Reapers already know you're here. They're on your doorstep right now. Fight, and maybe succeed, but they won't stop and they clearly outnumber you. Release us, and we can end this once and for all."

The wind feels like it is knocked from her lungs as the figure disappears. She looks to her mate to see him stumble and reaches out for him, but doesn't manage anything but to topple over on top of him, both falling into the black waters to drown.

"It is clear why the Reapers perceive you as a threat," she hears in the dark, starting to feel her fingers and toes, as if coming up from a cold sleep. "Your victories are more than a product of chance. We will fight. But not for you, or any lesser race." Its voice begins to fade, growing further away as more feeling returns, up her legs and arms. "We were the first, the apex race. We will survive."

The words are but a whisper now as she starts to open her eyes, hearing the panting of her husband as he shakily hits the commands to ascend with a slam of his fist before falling limp in his seat, looking to her. She can only lay a hand on his neck in assurance because he sits below, the effort not more than she can manage, but she feels his relief through their fading connection, or whatever the fuck the Leviathan did to them.

After that is mostly a blur. She remembers falling from the Titan onto hard ground and voices, followed by being hauled off, the sight of Garrus getting the same treatment the only thing keeping her from fighting in attempt to see where and how he is. From then on, she only remembers the deep, dark black of unconsciousness.


	29. Chapter 29

-Garrus-

 

When he wakes, he’s nowhere he had expected, nowhere he even _knows_. 

 

Sitting up, he finds himself sitting on a bench in a large building, the ceiling high and curving over the many over benches like his own.  He looks at the ceiling above, so high, it seems, that mist has begun to form to blanket the weather-worn and falling wood of walls and ceiling.  There are windows along the walls, colorful yet covered in grime from years of being unkempt and abandoned as well as more than half shattered along the stained rugs lining the walls.

 

He stands and looks around, taking in the dusty room, wondering how he’s found himself in a place of such disrepair.  Walking up the long, center aisle to a leaning podium, he rumbles in question when he comes across an actual book.  Dust lays thick on the pages and he has to use his gloved hand to push it away, but, even when he manages to see writing, the words make no sense, the letters nothing but gibberish that fades from his mind as soon as his eyes scan over them.

 

This place…  This place feels familiar, but so different than anything he’s experienced.  He feels like he’s in some still, dead dream, a place lost to time.

 

_I know this place…_ , he thinks as he begins to leave the podium to walk down the aisle, towards the warped, cracked open doors.  _But **how** do I know it?  I’ve never been here, but I feel like it’s not the building I’ve been but-_

 

His thoughts stop short as he forces open the doors and looks around.  He _does_ know this place, but not because he’s experienced.

 

Because _she’s_ experienced it.

 

“Jane?”  He calls for her, trilling in worry as he quickly takes the short steps down to the old Earthen street and looks, trying to see through the fog that seems as thick as a solid wall of shifting white and grays.

 

Not concerned with _how_ he seems to be having a nightmare so similar to the way she describes hers, he starts to walk, turning into a hurried run.  When he breaks through the fog and cold, icy rain like needles on his face, he is nowhere but before the very same building. 

 

All he’s managed to do is tire himself out and he hates that helplessness he now shares with what his wife must feel each and every time she dreams up this nightmare.  As he pants puffs of steam from his mouth, his tongue numb from the chill, he stops to look around, to try and see what Jane has said the fog always ‘tries to show’.

 

He does not see, but he _hears_ the sound of footsteps not far ahead of his position.  Humming in indecision, he decides he has no choice in the matter of what he will do – one way follows the steps and the only will probably only bring him back here – and takes off for the steps, trying to catch the owner.

 

Then he sees her, his wife.  Or, at least, he hopes it’s her.

 

She falls on her knees and pants, back heaving as she runs a hand through her entangled hair and he can’t help but flick his mandibles at the near exact situation he was just in mere moments before.  Slowly, he approaches her.  “Jane?”

 

The woman he hopes is his mate tenses, looks back at him with wide, worried eyes.  He knows her fear, knows her thoughts.  He’d have to be deaf and stupid to ignore the fact that she only has two things that could put that fear in her eyes, something concerning himself or their children.  And this nightmare usually includes both.

 

_She fears I will turn into a monster before her eyes if she tries to touch me… and I’m not sure I won’t_ , he thinks as he crouches down just out of arm’s length, reassuring rumble in his throat.  Granted, it could be a false assurance, but he has nothing else to give her, nothing to prove to this Jane that he wouldn’t let that fear come true if he had the power.

 

It’s at the same time that he sees her eyes widen, growing wet with unshed tears and notices he no longer has air coming from his lungs to steam in the cold air.  From there, he can no longer control the chill in his body, the numbness turning into a burning itch that starts from within and spreads out, his limbs somehow beyond his control, but burning with an internal flame. 

 

Groaning in pain, he starts to feel something move within him, something _alive_ and slithering from his gizzard and chest.  He chokes as it slides into his throat and he can taste it, metallic from his own blood, and feels the smooth, segmented surface with his tongue. 

 

Just before his vision starts to fade around the edges, he looks to her with a keen – his traitorous body no longer able to speak with the mechanical cording with his mouth – and silently apologizes, cursing himself for finding her in this place just to put her through seeing him like this.  The last thing he is able to see with his failing eyes is the tattered flesh of his hand over sleek metal as he reaches for her, wanting to feel her for a last time. 

 

He screams an agonized, mechanical scream when he feels her pull him into her arms, hating that, in her own nightmare, she has to be the one to comfort him.

 

Coming awake with a gasp, he jerks up, ignoring the irritating pull on his hide from medical equipment securing him to the now rapidly beating monitoring system.  Chakwas rushes to his side, assuring him he’s only in the MedBay, that they’ve taken quite the hit on Despoina, but his only attention goes to his mate. 

 

He gently pushes aside the Doctor and yanks off the medical equipment, rushing to Jane’s bedside.  Purring, he presses his forehead to hers and uses his thumbs to wipe at the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. 

 

“It’s okay,” he whispers, trying to soothe her back to consciousness.  “I’m here… It’s just a dream.”

 

He doesn’t see the look on Chakwas’ face as she moves to the monitor on her desk, concern on her face.  All he sees is Jane, his mate and love, as her face tenses and eyes open, glistening in unshed tears.  Immediately, he kisses her, swallows any and all words of questioning his health and physical state.

 

He knew it was bad, the things she’d dream, but he was never there to witness it himself, to see how it breaks her each and every time.  How she’s stayed together is something he can’t take full credit for because, even with someone by her side, she could have broken weeks ago and he’d never have faulted her.

 

“I dreamed again.” 

 

Her voice is weak, but he hears her all the same, nodding in understanding.  Oh, the understanding he now has.  “I know… I’m sorry.”

 

She frowns in confusion as he helps her up into a sitting position.  Before she can ask, however, Chakwas comes to them, a look of concern on her face as she brings Garrus a chair.  It’s good she has, he considers, as he feels so weak and his limbs are sore from whatever put him out of duty for as long as he’s been in the Bay now that the adrenaline is draining away.    

 

“Shepard, Garrus?  How are you two feeling?”  Chakwas lifts first his mate’s chin to quickly flick a light over each eye, then doing the same to him. 

 

“How long were we out?” Jane asks as the doctor checks his pulse now, giving him a look that clearly admonishes him for that burst from bed. 

 

Setting aside her tools, Chakwas exhales heavily and frowns.  “About sixteen hours-”

 

“Holy shit.”

 

“Yes, well,” she continues as if used to the interruptions from his wife.  “I’ve been monitoring your brainwaves as you both slept and… I’ve noticed something very strange.”

 

He frowns at that and rumbles in question as Jane speaks for the both of them.  “Bad strange?”

 

“It doesn’t affect your physical health and, when you woke about six hours ago, you were lucid enough to answer simple questions to test your brain functions.”  She smiles and adds before they can ask.  “And that’s a very good sign that your time down in that mech did not leave lasting effects.  I suspect you don’t remember because of your sheer exhaustion and not all of that is from this last mission.”

 

They look away from that pointed look, he dropping his eyes with a guilty flick of his mandibles and she a huff and look at something very interesting on the wall.  “And,” he finally says as he looks up to a woman that treats them more like children than patients – which isn’t that bad considering she’s the woman making sure they make it out of and into the next battle with the work she does patching them up.  “What is so interesting about our brainwaves?”

 

“To say it plainly, they’re different.”

 

“Different _how_ ,” Jane asks with a raised brow, crossing her arms.  “After Eden Prime, you told me the same thing, but I have a feeling this is different.”

 

The doctor nods.  “It is.  Doctor Michel,” he has to fight the chuckle at Jane’s bristling at that name, “and I have been monitoring you on shifts, seeing if there’s a pattern.”  She opens her Tool and types something, the other doctor entering not moments later.  “Do you have the last of the brainwave activity charts?”

 

Michel nods and comes to them, carrying a datapad and handing it to Chakwas.  “It’s as we suspected, Doctor,” she says in her heavily accented voice that Garrus’ own translator still has problems with before turning to them.  “Your brains show the _exact_ pattern at times, almost as if you are in sync.”

 

“Not only that, but we’ve noticed that, alone, we can chart higher brain activity than a large percent of the population.  I don’t know about you, Garrus, but, for certain, I can say that whatever you experienced down on Despoina has altered your brain, Shepard.”

 

Jane frowns at that while he growls, wishing he was back down there with the damn Leviathan, there to show them just what he thinks of their ‘mind altering’ they are suffering.  Instead, he asks, “Is this altered patterns going to affect us negatively?”

 

“Quite the opposite.”

 

Chakwas nods to the younger woman’s reassurance, but explains.  “We’d still like to monitor you both occasionally to make sure there are no lasting effects besides this… _unique_ development.  And I _suggest_ you both _rest_.”  She gives a pointed look and Garrus gets that maternal aura from her again.  “I won’t like, we will have to learn this as we proceed.”

 

“Hear that, Garrus?  We’re trailblazers.”

 

He snorts at her smirk, shaking his head with an amused rumble.  “Could be worse.”

 

“ _Commander?_ ”

 

“Yes, Traynor?”

 

“Admiral Hackett is requesting an audience via vidcomm.  
 

Sighing, his mate slowly gets to her feet and, if her hand supporting her weight on the bed is anything to go by, she feels just as drained as he does.  “I’ll be right there.”

 

The intercom shuts off with a click and Chakwas scowls.  “You aren’t going up there alone.”

 

“I’ll go,” Garrus assures as he stands too, muscles never this sore except when he was young and first learning how to wear armor.  “Just give me a second.”

 

“Yeah, met too… feel like shit.”

 

“That’s the effects of when you dove so deep,” Chloe explains as she, just so, happens to go to him first.  He silently wills her away, but she doesn’t budge from his side, even at the audible crack of her knuckles as she clenches her hand tightly into a fist.  If she were at her best, they’d be minus a doctor, Garrus is sure.  “We’re lucky that the mech you were in was able to keep away most of the effects of the rapid pressure change, but muscle soreness is still one.  Added to your long stay in bed and it will take some time to completely feel back to normal.”

 

Chakwas, thankfully, ushers Michel away to let him walk by himself under the guise of handing her the datapad of their charts.  He rumbles in silent thanks, knowing it’ll be left to interpretation by both, and takes his wife’s hand to calm her. 

 

“How long will the soreness take affect?” He asks with a concerned hum.  They can’t be out of the fight for long, not at a time like this, in a war like this.  “We still have a war to win, Doctor.”

 

She smiles and pats his shoulder.  “Don’t worry.  Walking around will help, but I suggest you stay _off_ the ground missions until you can actually handle yourself without needing to lean on anything.”  Lifting a brow, she motions the two of them almost hanging on the other, their bodies unconsciously attracted to fight support in the other. 

 

“Right,” Jane says, voice dripping with sarcasm that makes Chakwas sigh.  “We’ll be sure to tell the Reapers we’re on break.”  Looking to him, she smiles.  “Ready to head up to Hackett and tell him what a serious fucked up deal with the Leviathan is?”

 

He smirks and rumbles.  “Do I ever say no to an offer like that?”

 

Hand and hand, they, so very slowly, make their way up to the CIC, through the War Room, and into the Comm Room.  Garrus takes a step back to let her lead, it being her people’s military and all, but is willing to step in whenever the Admiral needs to be reminded who is on the front line while he and his fleets protect the Crucible being built. 

 

“Commander,” the Admiral takes a parade rest and nods in acknowledgement towards the Turian in the room, “Praetor Vakarian.”  He looks back to Jane.  “I’ve read Doctors Chakwas and Michel’s reports as well as your ground teams’.  I’d like to hear just what happened down there on Despoina.  What did you find?”

 

“The Leviathans exist, but they aren’t Reapers.”  The Admiral nods for her to continue, listening.  “They created an Intelligence to find the solution for stars dying so the people they had as mindless slaves could continue to serve them.”

 

“It’s safe to say that the reason for the stars’ deaths is dark energy, as realized in our own time,” Garrus adds from his side of the room.  “The Leviathan hadn’t bothered to look into it themselves at the time, but there’s already been one case where a star has aged faster than it should.  The Quarians have the data from a planet in that system, Haestrom.”

 

“I’ll have one of our science team request the data,” Hackett says as he shifts from his stance and brings a hand to his chin, eyes narrowed in thought.  “How do the Reapers come into play?”

 

“Because the Leviathan makes Reapers out of civilizations in order to carry out whatever sort of ‘solution’ it has found and is trying to fulfill.  The damn idiots didn’t even know what that solution was before it started harvesting their species into a Reaper.” 

 

“Your peoples’ reports spoke of a new form of Indoctrination.”

 

Seeing Jane frown in thought, trying to remember, he steps forward.  “We don’t know exactly how the Reapers do it, but the Leviathan use an artifact that emits low frequencies of sound and light to control those around it.  We figure that’s how they can take down a Reaper, so long as it is within range of either the Leviathan or their artifacts.”

 

“Can this power be harnessed?  Will they fight in the war?”

 

“With all due respect, sir,” Garrus interrupts, not liking the thought of _anyone_ trying to use the Leviathan as a weapon, not with the obvious views of superiority the species has over all others.  “The Leviathan can’t be trusted.  They have already, outright, admitted to enslaving previous species _and_ are ready to do it again once the Reapers are taken care of.  All we need is to let them get into our ranks and rip us apart from in inside.”

 

Jane nods and looks to her Admiral, crossing her arms.  “You want our opinion?  Find the most primitive way you can to destroy them.  Hell, strap nukes to an asteroid and blast that thing into Despoina’s atmosphere and let gravity do the rest.  Whatever you do, don’t let the Alliance or anyone trust those bastards.  Destroy any and all of those orbs and never look back.”

 

Admiral Hackett thinks on that before returning to his military’s parade rest and nodding tersely.  “Very well, Commander, Praetor.  Your reports will be invaluable to the Alliance.  Everyone is already calling what we have from your crew the Leviathan Codex.”

 

“Let’s hope that codex ends with an entry of their extinction,” she adds, but it doesn’t seem to distract from the man’s stride. 

 

“There is one more thing, Commander.”  She raises a brow in question and nods in ‘go ahead’.  “I have ordered the Normandy into dry dock on the Citadel, you are on your way to the station and should be arriving soon according to your communications location.”

 

“Sir, we’re in the middle of-”

 

“I understand, Commander, but the Normandy was still in the middle of a being refurbished _before_ she left Earth.  We need everybody at their best and that includes ship _and_ crew.  You and your crew are all on shore leave and that’s an _order_ , Commander.” 

 

Closing her eyes, she sighs in frustration, irritation radiating off her in waves, but Garrus actually agrees with the man, seeing the need for some relaxing considering that Chakwas just pulled them off ground missions.  It’s why he answers for her when he says, “Understood, Admiral.”

 

He ignores the slight glare as Hackett nods, reaching for the command to end the call before pausing.  “Admiral Anderson has also passed on an order of his own.  He has an apartment on the Wards.  You are to report there and ‘enjoy your leave’.”

 

The comm goes silent, leaving them looking to the other in surprise.  She mouths ‘apartment?’ just as he shrugs, not knowing what to do with that kind of invitation either.  Of course, it’s not like he’s about to _deny_ it, not when they have the perfect chance to be with their children off the ship without fear of being overheard or seen by prying eyes.  A whole apartment to themselves?  They’d be crazy to say no.

 

So they don’t.  Instead, they head to their Cabin where Tali and Ilden watch the twins and pry the babies from the young Quarian’s hands to get them and some things packed for the stay.  At first, Tali is all pouts and frustration, but at the sound of shore leave, she is gone in a flash, dragging away the young Drell to get their own things ready for the instant they are released onto the Citadel. 

 

Garrus isn’t sure which will be worst on the Citadel, the Normandy’s crew on shore leave of the war, but he’s definitely ready to see as he and Jane find the nearest skycar when they are finally on the station.  Stuffing the duffels holding their very sparse collection of civvies and armor and weapons crates into the cargo hatch – because they would never be without a gun or reliable armor even on shore leave – they gently take their most precious cargo, the tiny carrier soon to be getting too small for the growing babies, now longer than Jane’s forearms but still small enough for him to at least fit one in his cowl at a time.

 

With the carrier hugged to his wife’s chest, they travel through the Wards, deeper into the more luxurious districts and deeper, through shops he had only ever been able to see thanks to his work at C-Sec.  Sure, he remembers taking Jane to a show at a theater they pass, but even then, the skycar flies deeper until they finally begin to slow. 

 

  
“The Silversun Strip,” Jane says in near silent awe.  “Holy shit.  Anderson lives _here_?”

 

“Now you’re making me feel bad,” he jokes.  “You’re saying our lavish Captain’s Quarters isn’t good enough for my queen?”

 

She snorts and lifts a brow.  “If I’m the queen, you’re the jester.”

 

“Ouch.”  He chuckles and takes her hand as they finally arrive at what must be their destination, Tiberius Towers.  Rumbling in amazement, he looks up at the ever rising levels, sure it ends somewhere in the simulated darkness of this section of the Wards, as if in permanent night which would fit with the much needed environment for the Silver Coast Casino, the largest venue and biggest financial supporter of the area. 

 

“What level are we on?”

 

Checking his Tool for the access, he hums as he reads.  “Level forty-six, room two.”

 

“Well, what do you say?  We see what a hell hole this place actually is,” she asks with a happy smile and squeezes his hand, the other cradling their babies’ carrier. 

 

They can return to the transport later to get their things because it’s not like anyone can get into their most valuable possessions, anyways, thanks to the heavily encrypted locks on the crates _and_ Spectre grade biometric locks on their weapons.  Right now, Garrus knows that his mate shares in his idea of just getting into the apartment and _relaxing_ , living like a normal couple with young children, even if only for a very short time before something calls them away – which, even on shore leave, is bound to happen.

 

As soon as they step into the apartment, as soon as the doors shut behind them, they forgo looking around, at least for now, to set the carrier down and remove their gurgling children.  He takes their daughter and she their son, kicking the carrier to the side of the door to deal with later, before finally taking a look around.

 

“There are too many windows,” is the first thing he thinks and says, growling and holding Cassia tighter.  “Can you image the easy target we’d make to someone with even _half_ our skill?”

 

She snorts and reflexively turns her back to the window, shielding Damocles like a true mother.  “We’ll find a way to fix them if this is something that lasts.”  _Lasts longer than this war_.

 

He nods and looks around, ignoring the blaring defensive flaws of the windows and complete lack of cover along the bottom level despite the bar and destructible couches.  Even the wall was decorative, doing nothing but cutting the room into the semblance of two. 

 

Up above was a nice perch if not for the even worse lack of cover from the railing with nothing but a corner on one side and an open stairway on the other.  What lay behind the upper floor’s wall, he doesn’t know, but he hopes that that part of the apartment at least doesn’t have windows like this side. 

 

“What are you thinking in that thick skull of yours?”

 

Looking down at her from his scanning, he doesn’t hesitate in answering, “This place need better defenses.”

 

Rolling her eyes, she actually nods.  “Saying it needs _better_ defenses would insinuate that it has _any_.  But you’re not allowed to use your leave creating defenses for this apartment, you hear me?” 

 

He rumbles and flicks a mandible in his own version of an eye roll and she flicks his nose, making him yelp at the sudden sting and clamp a hand on his nose.  “What was that for?”

 

She chuckles and leans up to kiss his nose once he removes his hand.  “Relax,” she says softly with a warm smile.  “Put the Praetor, Spectre, and Archangel away for just one leave, alright?”

 

Smiling, he purrs and nods.  “So long as you do the same.”

 

“Always,” she promises when the comm channel beside the door begins to chime.  Raising a brow in intrigue at him because there’s not supposed to be anyone but the owner that knows of this place and who lives here, she heads to it and taps the answer.  “Hello?”

 

The image of the very man they owe this beautiful apartment, defensive flaws and all, to smiles as soon as he sees them, eyes lighting up when they lock on the twins in their arms.  “Good to see the four of you have made it alright.  How are you doing?”

 

“Fighting and winning, so far,” Jane chuckles, trying to lighten the air, and the man cracks a smile. 

 

“I see the twins haven’t made you tear your hair out.”  His eyes meet Garrus’ and he nods with a friendly smile.  “I’m glad to have you hear.  I want you to have this apartment.  Take it off my hands.”

 

“We can’t really-”

 

“Now this isn’t up for debate, Vakarian,” he mock scolds.  “You need a place that’s home, not just a cabin on the Normandy.  A place you can take your children and recharge, relax, and not have to worry.  Kahlee wanted us to settle down there, but the thing is, the longer I’m on Earth, the less I can see myself leading.”

 

“That’s just because of the war,” Jane says with a confused frown.  “Once this is over, you’ll need a place.”

 

He shakes his head.  “I’ve never liked loose ends.”  Anderson chuckles and motions the baby in her arms with his chin.  “And you’d be doing me a favor by not having to worry about where the heroes of our galaxy are going to live with their two young children.”

 

Taking his words to heart, hearing the tone of no arguments, even in a human’s voice, Garrus unconsciously ducks his head in silent agreement while Jane chews her lip.  Neither is known for their ability to take from others, especially when they don’t feel like it’s earned or necessary, but isn’t the Admiral right?  It is not right to think about having a place safe for Damocles and Cassia – well, safe once he _adjusts_ some things.

 

“Thank you, sir.”  Garrus looks up and sees his wife smiling at the older human. 

 

Nodding his agreement to her words, he too says, “We won’t regret this, Admiral.”

 

The man simply shrugs and gives them a mock stern look.  “And make a room a nursery, dammit.  The place is yours now.”  They chuckle and nod, Jane rubbing their son’s back as he clings to her shirt and Cassia, ever the quiet, observant one, simply watches the bright image on the screen.  “Okay.  Good.  Been meaning to do that for a while.  I’ll talk to you two soon.”

 

“Watch yourself out there,” Jane replies with a smirk.  “Anything happens to you, Kahlee Sanders will be on your ass.”

 

Anderson chuckles “Good to see you haven’t changed, Shepard.  You both be careful and do some damage for me.”


	30. Chapter 30

-Jane-

 

_Since the Normandy is dry docked, I figured we’re in for some real shore leave.  Meet up at that Ryuusei sushi place down in the Wards?  I don’t some things I got to talk to you about._

_Oh, and I **guess** Garrus can come too._

_-Joker_

Of _course_ they wouldn’t have the chance to just sit and relax for an hour before someone called on them, but, at least, it wasn’t to something else than dinner and talking _._ She still wasn’t sure was so important that Joker just _had_ to cut into their shore leave, one she was pretty sure even he would take as time not to need to be anywhere around the same people he’s trapped on a ship with twenty-four seven, but they’d go.  If anything, it would hopefully clear up the rest of their night.

 

Thankfully, they had somewhere they could take their little ones where they could be safe, protected.  Sure, they may not necessarily get completely along with his father as they should, there was still tension from years upon years of mistrust and strife that wouldn’t go away in a few months of frantic attempts to live out like the galaxy wasn’t ending, but it was enough to know that Titus Vakarian _did_ care. 

 

It was clear in the way he actually smiled with one of them in his arms, he soft rumbles and purrs as he introduced his scent to them with tender nuzzles and scrapes of his mandibles to theirs.   Jane understood Solana’s care, never expected any different after hearing all the great things Garrus would say about her, but she was so surprised to see her father-in-law swallow his views on their choices in life and just treat them as his children, his son and daughter-in-law, and parents to his grandchildren.

 

She could tell, in everything he did, that Garrus’ father would die to protect their twins if he must and loved them in his own special way.  Whatever kind of father he was to Garrus, he was trying to be a better man now, a grandfather worth the place in the twins’ lives he was offered from the very beginning despite their differences between him and the couple.

 

Arriving at the small apartment that the Vakarians share, the elder Vakarian lets them in with a nod of greeting and a purring click of his mandibles.  “Garrus, Jane.  We hadn’t expected you back to the Citadel so soon.”

 

Jane chuckles and helps Garrus gently take the babies out of their carrier, taking Cassia to the trilling female stuck on the bed with her broken leg making grabbing hands with a pleading look.  “Yeah, Admiral Hackett ordered the Normandy into dry dock for repairs and maintenance.”

 

Titus rumbles in understanding as he takes his offered grandson with a purr, pressing his forehead to Damocles’ crown before cradling him to his chest, helping the little one into his cowl.  “Thank you for bringing them.”

 

“We figured you don’t really get to see them enough,” Garrus says with a smile to his father.  “It also might do them some good to have more than one set of vocals to listen to.” 

 

Looking around the apartment, Jane notices that it seems like Titus has been trying to fix it up, repair what he can.  “Titus, have you been working on the apartment?”

 

He hums and shakes his head, nodding to Sol.  “She has been using her physical training to do it, _despite_ my and the doctor’s insistence not to.” 

 

The younger Turian snorts with a shrug at the pointed look.  “I don’t have anything else to do when you go out.”

 

“Out?” Garrus rumbles in question.

 

“I’ve been assisting C-Sec.”  At his son’s brow raise, he continues.  “Yes, I know I’m retired, but I can’t sit around while they are being overrun with refugees to the point that their higher officers are being put on patrol instead of being able to work at their positions.  Just because we have an overabundance of refugees doesn’t mean other crime stops.  In fact, it opens the station up for criminals to take advantage of the discord.”

 

“So dad’s been helping to cover Investigations, helps those officers still in that department that haven’t been transferred out as well as instructing some of the Patrol officers on how to maintain a crime scene.”  Solana practically vibrates with pride and Jane smiles at seeing the happiness in the older man’s eyes at helping when, at the time they finally met as father and daughter in-law, he was so obviously lost without his mate.

 

Garrus wasn’t lying when he spoke of work being his father’s second love and she can see that.  Perhaps it’s the sense of making order out of chaos that appeals to him or the fact that he is helping others, something shared between father and son, but Titus seems more stable now that he has something he can fight, he can take control of. 

 

And isn’t that what so many want and need in this war that has taken away all apparent control and opposition?

 

Her mate rumbles and nods.  “I get it.  Just be careful, dad.” 

 

Titus nods and turns his attention to the baby in his hands, rumbling something in rhythm as he gently rocks Damocles.  Solana smiles to Jane from her place on the bed and purrs, asking, “So what’s the occasion that has lead us to the chance of prying these little ones from your hands?”

 

Chuckling, Jane answers with a motion to Garrus.  “Our pilot offered dinner at Ryuusei, though I’m sure we’re buying.”  


She makes an interesting sounding trill, eyes widening.  “I’ve heard of that place!  It’s supposed to be _amazing_ and _expensive_.”  Sol stops and looks them both over, taking in Jane in her jacket and jeans and Garrus in his BDUs talking to his father.  “And you two are _not_ going in that, are you?”

 

Lifting a brow, Jane looks down at her clothes.  “What’s wrong with them?  It’s not like they have any holes in them-”

 

Sol groans and closes her eyes in exasperation before sighing heavily, getting Cassia’s rapt attention and chirping interest.  “Ryuusei is ‘semi-formal wear’ _only_ ,” the young woman explains as she rubs the Cassia’s back, soothing her confusion. 

 

“So?  We’ll just use our Spec-”

 

“Don’t say it,” Sol says with a stern look.  “You two are supposed to be having a nice evening, so you both will go out and find a nice dress and he a nice suit.  It doesn’t even have to be that fancy, just enough to look… not like two soldiers on shore leave.”

 

Garrus approaches just to catch that and frowns in confusion, looking at himself.  “What’s wrong with that?”

 

“She doesn’t think we look fancy enough to go to the sushi place.  Says we need to dress up,” Jane answers with a snort.

 

“Yes, I do.  So both of you, by the Spirits, find something besides BDUs and whatever that is on you,” she points to Jane, “to wear.  Make the Vakarian name proud.”

 

Both of them performing something akin to an eye roll for their species, Jane and her mate leave their children with his family and head for the markets.  She’ll be damned if they aren’t allowed to eat thanks to not wearing the right clothes, by whatever kind of weird reasoning this sushi place seems to have. 

 

It wasn’t necessarily _easy_ for the two Spectres to figure out what the hell ‘semi-formal’ even meant and what qualified for that, but they eventually managed.  Sure, they had once worn something that wasn’t an undersuit, set of armor, or haphazardly thrown together set of civvies, but it was close to four years ago for him and two years of awareness for her.  It took work to reach back to those days of the two of them just living for themselves, for the next day of relaxing and enjoying the other’s company, but they had finally found a way back to that mindset in time.

 

With he in a deep, black and dark blue suit with broad white stripes coming down his shoulders and dropping down his chest and she in a red, pencil dress with a cinched in, black waist, collar and buttons up the front of the bust, Jane thought they looked pretty damn good.  Hell, she even let her hair curl as she pulled it back from her face and even _put on makeup_ , which is something she hasn’t done is years except when told to.

 

Of course, her husband looks great in anything from being naked to being in full armor and covered in Reaper blood, but seeing him like this brings back memories of their wedding, of the first day of the lives they’d share explicitly.  He truly is handsome, beautiful even, and she smiles in love just looking up to him as he takes her by the hand and helps her out of the skycar before the restaurant.

 

“I think we make a pretty sexy couple, don’t you, Garrus?”  She smirks and adjusts the tie around her neck for the dress. 

 

Chuckling, he gives her a blatant up-and-down.  “And here I was about to cite some poetry about your looks, but, damn, you look good in that dress.  And those heels?”  He growls appreciatively with a smirk.

 

Jane snorts lightly.  “And who wrote that?”

 

“Well, I did.”  He gives her a mock affronted look and she chuckles, squeezing his hand as they walk right past the crowd lined up at the door at the motion of the host.  “Looks like we get the special treatment.”

 

“For once,” she adds as they approach the host and see Joker, dressed in, shockingly enough, something _besides_ his own BDUs.  “Looks like this really is a ‘semi-formal or no admittance’ place.  Even got Joker to – well, he still has his hat, so nevermind.”

 

He chuckles as he guides her to the table where Joker seems to be struggling with a raucous bout of laughter and pulls out the seat for her.  That gets her brows raising in surprise, but he doesn’t respond to the silent question with anything more than a rumble and smile. 

 

“Well, look at you two,” Joker says as Garrus takes his seat with a raised brow.  “Looks like the two of you _can_ manage to dress yourselves in something besides armor.”  He shakes his head with a sigh.  “Yeah, bet no one would believe me.”

 

“Well, when in Rome, right?”

 

“When in where?” 

 

She snorts at her mate’s confusion as he checks the visor he, thankfully, wasn’t forced to remove and the pilot says, “Oh, yeah this place is _great_.  Only had to save the galaxy how many times?  Right, two and working on a third.”  The others chuckle and nod.  “But look at me now, drink in hand and in one of the fanciest places on the Citadel.  Best pilot in the universe _and_ a rock star.”

 

He drinks as she snorts and rolls her eyes, tipping a toast to her mate across the table in a joking ‘to the real rock stars’.  Hearing his chuckle and watching him toast back, she takes a sip of something strong, yet oddly fruity.  “What the hell is this, Joker?”

 

“Something to help forget about a bunch of strangers poking around my … er, your ship?”

 

She chuckles and shrugs.  “When this war is over, you can have her.  Just let me get my things at least.”

 

“Yeah,” he huffs in laugh.  “Wouldn’t want to miss all your dead fish.”

 

“Hey, they’re… probably still alive.”  Which reminds her, did they feed the fish before docking?  Neither one of them was very good at doing it, he because she insisted she care for the fish _she_ purchased and she because, well, she just plain forgot. 

 

Garrus chuckles and looks to her with a raised brow.  “You’re wondering if you feed them, aren’t you?”

 

“Perhaps?”

 

Joker snorts and says around his glass, “Great use of those Alliance and Council funds, boss.”  Setting the glass down, he looks between them.  “So… as much as it’s fun spending my time eating at my boss’ expense, the whole ‘being with my boss during it’ is a bit of a disappointment.  What was it you wanted to talk about?”

 

Confused, she frowns as her mate hums low before speaking.  “Us?  Your message said _you_ had to speak to us.”

 

The pilot matches her look with his own, a mix of confusion and raises brows in surprise.  “What the hell?  I didn’t send-”

 

“Commander!”  A woman starts to hurry through the mingling crowd of restaurant goers, bumping into and jumping around the patrons with apologizes and urgings to move.  “Commander!  This is urgent!”

 

Jane sighs in exasperation and groans with a drop of her head.  “When isn’t it,” she sarcastically asks the table as a woman in Alliance blues approaches the table, panting.

 

“Commander Shepard, I’m Staff Analyst Maya Brooks.”  She throws a rushed salute, forcing Jane to roll her hand in a ‘move it along’ motion.  “There are people trying to kill you.”

 

She looks to her mate, his brow plate raised in ‘is she serious’, then back to the woman.  “Yeah, the universe is pretty lousy with people looking to put that bullet in my head.”  Lifting her glass is toast, she adds.  “But thanks for that friendly reminder.”

 

“No!  Not the Reapers or Cerberus-”

 

“Or mercenaries,” Garrus adds.

 

“Or anyone else she pissed off,” Joker also adds.

 

Brooks pauses a moment before shaking the interruption off.  “No, I mean _other_ people!  New people!”  She practically shoves the datapad she’s carrying at them.  “Here.  See?  Someone is hacking your account.  Comm channels, personal records… they’re targeting you, specifically.”

 

Her mate growls and that, hand tensing around his glass.  As he’s about to speak a voice calls out, surrounded by shocked gasps.  They don’t hear much of what’s said as Garrus moves fast, grabbing the bottle of whatever alcohol they’re having, spins, and throws it with full force, hitting the speaker directly in the face with a shattering of glass and screaming of panicked patrons.

 

Sounds of gunfire erupts as Jane and her husband work in sync, throwing the table on its side and ducking behind for cover.  Joker shouts something about an injury when they yank him back, but it’s necessary to save his life and he knows it.  Only hopes are that it wasn’t something vital.

 

“Spread out, boys.  Find me Shepard!”

 

“Looks like we got our identity thieves,” she says quietly, cursing inwardly that she wasn’t able to fit a weapon under this damn, tight dress. 

 

“Or those working for them,” Garrus growls as he removes a heavy pistol from under his tunic.  “Use your biotics until I can get you one of their weapons.”

 

She nods and watches him move fast, almost too fast for her eyes to catch as he swings out of cover, breaks the wrist of a man she never even knew was there and spins him to use as a shield.  Firing at two men in quick succession, one still standing, dead, as the other takes the second bullet, without seeming to even look. 

 

Watching it all, seeing him move faster than before, she is stunned and frozen in place behind cover until he drops behind a second table, looking to her expectantly.  She snaps out of it at the feeling of his look saying ‘well, there’s your weapon at your feet’ and grabs the pistol.  Just in time, too, as now they have the attention of the merc company. 

 

Not ready to trust the weapon in her hands, she ignites her biotics and reaches around, sending what she _thinks_ is a pull.  Yet, instead of sending the man flying, he drops to his knees with a cry of pain before standing and _firing upon his own men_ as the glowing, nearly black energy from her attack engulfs him. 

 

**_What the hell was that?_ **

_Wait, **who** the hell was that?  _ She thinks as she shakes off the confusion at both the strange biotics and male voice in her head.  Now isn’t the time to worry about going crazy as she turns to Joker, hearing Garrus returning fire.  “Find the rest of the crew.  Whoever this is might be targeting them.”

 

“Find crew.  Got it.”  He slowly gets up and starts to hobble away as she emerges and starts to fire at the targets not directly next on his ‘hit list’, as she likes to think of his mental checklist of hostiles.

 

_Wait.  How do I know who he is going to fire on next?  What the fuck is going on_?

 

**_Think later.  Fire now._ **

 

“Right,” she agrees with the voice as she starts to move up, closer to where the men are taking Brooks hostage.

 

Rolling into cover, she throws another Pull, watching it turn into whatever that strange power is that is turning the mercs onto the other.  A look to her mate shows him dropping one after the other and it’s only then that it clicks, that it makes sense what’s happening.

 

_Holy shit… the Leviathan’s effects on our minds_ …

 

**_Jane_** **,** the voice she now realizes as her husband’s, as impossible as that is, says, **_Concentrate and we can panic about this later._**

 

She takes a deep breath to clear her head, knowing he – or at least her brain’s version of him – is right, and ducks out of cover, using the weapon from the mercenaries on themselves, firing one in the head and moving to the next.  A Reave – _at least that’s the same_ – into one stuns him for her to take a shot just as another falls to her mate. 

 

With the upper level of the entrance covered by her steadily approaching mate, she runs to Maya Brooks and kneels down to help her to her feet, laying a hand on her wound.  “You good?”

 

“I think-”

 

The distinct sound of cracking makes Jane’s eyes widen as she realizes a second too late what the hell that means.  Shoving Brooks away, practically throwing her, she feels too late the shift of weight’s effects on the delicate, _cracked_ , glass below them.

 

Her ‘fuck’ slips from her lips just as her mate lets out a trilling growl and the floor shatters, sending both plummeting down.  Hands reach and fail to grip onto the flashing light struts as they rapidly speed by and she really expects it all to end, ridiculously, by ‘fall through a fish tank’ when something stops her.

 

That something happens to be a hand wrapping around her wrist, momentum yanking her shoulder out of its socket with a pop that, surprisingly, doesn’t hurt as bad as she expects.  She looks up to see her growling mate trying to pull them up, but it’s not to be as the strut supporting their combined weight fails, sending them crashing down once more. 

 

This time she hooks her fingers into a panel of the buildings and tries to return the favor, but her mate is just too far away and her heart plummets with him as his talons scrap down the metal before he rolls off the ledge.  _This can’t be happening!  Not like this!_

 

“Garrus!” she manages to get out before the destroyed lights from their fall come crashing down on top of her, sending her to join him. 

 

She lands, hard, on him, a loud crack of sound as she hits his plates and rolls off with an equally heavy thud.  Groaning in pain, she opens her eyes and, quickly recovering, bolts up and rushes to him in a fearful panic.  He can’t be out, can’t have fallen to something like a tumble down the side of a building.  She can’t go on, not mentally, without him.

 

“Garrus!” she yells as she rolls him onto his back, laying a hand on his cheek.  “Get up, Garrus.  Please.”

 

He groans, the best sound in the universe right now, and cracks open his eyes.  “Do I have to?”

 

She chuckles, soon groaning in her own aches, but helps him up.  “Jesus… I feel like shit.” 

 

“So do I,” he agrees with a growl and grips her arm, popping her shoulder back in.  He coughs, spitting up water and she’s pretty sure at least one fish, which makes her wonder what she may have swallowed during their plummet.  “We need to keep moving.”

 

Nodding, she quickly takes their state in.  She aches, but doesn’t feel anything broken aside from perhaps a rib, mostly just bruised.  Her dress and his suit are ruined, barely above tatters hanging on their bleeding forms, cuts visible from shards of the tank and lights. 

 

With only one weapon left, her ‘acquired’ pistol, she hands it over.  “I can use biotics until we get another,” she assures his raised brow.  “I’m more curious as to why you’re in my head.”

 

He stills and looks at her.  “What?”

 

“You.  In my head.”

 

“You… I heard you too, in mine.”  His eyes widen as he trills.  “Is that what Chakwas and Michel meant?”

 

Jane thinks on it before nodding.  “I have no doubt.  But what about that other shit?  You were… fuck, you were like a machine out there.”

 

His mandibles flutter as he examines the weapon for damage.  “I felt that too.  It was like time was slowed for me.  I could calculate trajectories and fire without needing the speed of my visor.”  Rumbling, he looks up to her, adding, “And whatever you were doing to them, like you were controlling them.”

 

She shivers at all the truths of fucked up shit that the Leviathan left them with, she rubs her arms, ignoring the fact that she also doesn’t feel pain as bad as she should.  _One thing at a time_. 

 

“Jane.  It’s alright-”

 

“Did you just read my mind?”

 

His head jerks in surprise at that before he chuckles and shakes his head.  “No.  It must just be in certain circumstances.  I just know you.”

 

“Commander!  Are you okay down there?”  Brook’s voice is quite annoying once Jane considers it, but that’s not the time for those thoughts.  Now is the time to get the hell out of some fucking alley and beat the shit out of whoever threw them down a building.  “I found a secure terminal… How can I help?”

 

“Alert C-Sec and find us a way out of this place,” Garrus growls in command, starting to lead the way since he is the one with the actual weapon. 

 

“Right… right!  C-Sec and transportation.  Let’s see… ah!  There’s a skycar lot.  Cision Motors.  I can send you the coordinates?”

 

“Do it,” Jane says as she starts to follow, growling at the damn heels on her feet.  “Shit, Garrus hold up.”  She stops and starts to unlatch her shoes.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“These bastards are going to get me killed.”  About to toss them off the edge, she stops and looks at it with a smirk.  “I bet I could kill a man with this point.”

 

He snorts and chuckles, walking again once her second shoe comes off.  “Just don’t get shot.  Would be awfully stupid to do so because you wanted to beat someone with a shoe.”

 

 


	31. Chapter 31

-Garrus-

Out of one firefight and into another seemed to be the theme of their approach to and defense from within the skycar lot. At least Wrex had, quite literally, dropped out of the sky to provide the couple much needed heavy artillery when they were cornered and low on heatsinks. With his fire power and Krogan stubbornness not to head straight into fire, something the man had been known for from the beginning of them working together, they had managed to cover their exit as Cortez flew in with the Normandy's shuttle to pull them out of the fire.

Arriving at their – and it still falls awkwardly from their tongues to call it that just yet after receiving it mere hours ago without any prior knowledge of its existence – apartment, they start to go over what they know, what they don't, and what they _want_ to know.

C-Sec was out of the picture, not with their easy access to C-Sec shuttles leading to the possibility that there could be an inside source within Citadel Security. The last thing they needed was to give away their location to these mercenaries any more than a massive shoot out through the Wards already had. So they were working alone, which wouldn't be so bad with two Spectres, a Krogan battlemaster, and their crew, once they were alerted to shore leave, once again, being over.

They also know _why_ they were targeted - or, more importantly, why _his wife_ was targeted - and in such a manner as to have an armed attack in the middle of an unassuming sushi restaurant in the middle of the Wards. Maya Brooks, wasn't just Alliance, she was an analyst tasked with tracking and preventing identity fraud involving the use of officers' IDs. According to her, someone had forced their way into the system and accessed the entirety of Jane's records, from personnel files and mission reports to Alliance and Spectre access controls.

The pistol they found also gave clues into the identity of the merc group. They didn't work like the major groups and they used customized, heavy grade pistols. With luck, Liara, who they managed to contact due to the fact that she never found herself time to not be working or within reach, can find something about the people either using the pistol or the third party manufacturer and supplier to the mercenary company.

The biggest question had to be what, exactly, was what the identity thief had planned with all the information that was apparently worth killing the original for. Whatever it was, it was something big enough to warrant complete assurance that the real Commander Shepard was not around to contradict or stop it.

It wasn't like people weren't already using Jane's name during this war, there was plenty of that, but it's personal now for Garrus. He was already angry to hear someone taking her name without her consent, but now they were nothing more than a target in his sights thanks to their more than stupid plan to try and kill them.

The bell to the apartment chiming cuts off their planning and Jane looks to him, sharing a silent plan to take no prisoners if they've been followed. He nods in agreement and pulls his pistol, going to the view screen for the door. Activating it brings a bit of a surprise.

Instead of armed men, the Normandy's crew – _okay, perhaps they aren't technically unarmed_ \- occupies the small hall with Joker and Vega upfront, the pilot looking up into the camera. "I found you some people who actually _like_ being shot at."

"Hey, Scars. You and Lola finding trouble without me?" James grabs his chest dramatically. "You wound me. I thought you were mi amigos!"

Snorting, he taps the door command and lets them in. Vega pats him on the shoulder as he passes, Tali looks at his tattered clothes with a tsk, EDI smiles as if not looking at a half-naked Turian, Ilden starts a bit out of surprise from seeing his state completely on out of his hooded vision, Cortez looks him over in concern to check for injuries, Joker snickers, and Javik simply sighs in exasperation.

Jane huffs a laugh at their faces as they look to her and shrugs. "Did you enjoy your shore leaves?" Some of them groan, but she persists as they follow her into the dining area turned command center by Liara, which has sprung up faster than Garrus would have imagined. "Wouldn't want you assholes to miss out on this fun." Coming to the table and letting the others circle it, she leans over it and asks, "So, what do you know?"

Ilden starts with, "You fell through a fishtank-"

"Of course _that'd_ be the first thing you people would bring up."

"I always wanted to go inside, and when I finally prove myself to the galaxy, you break their floor," Tali says in a huff and crosses her arms in a pout.

"In my cycle, we did not-"

"Let's just assume they know everything they need to," Garrus interrupts, rumbling in amusement. "In short, someone is trying to steal Jane's identity and now wants to kill her."

They all look around before Wrex starts laughing, bringing in the entire group. The only two not laughing are the two who actually ended up with the brunt of the first attempt at their lives, Garrus sharing a look of slightly amused exasperation. _Just_ _ **one**_ _day, I'd like to have a date with you, Jane._

Collecting himself, Joker shakes his head with a mock scowl. "That's the _last_ time I ever go out with you two for dinner. As if being a third wheel wasn't bad enough, you turn me into bait! Bait!" He looks to EDI for support, but she must not understand as she simply blinks at him.

"I do not understand, Jeff. They would not have ordered you from cover if you were in danger."

"Thank you!" Jane shouts with her hands thrown up. "See? She gets it."

"Shepard," Liara says, finally pulling herself out of the terminal with Glyph and into the conversation she has missed so far. "I have a lead on the gun." All heads turn to her, rapt in attention, and she waits for the nod in 'continue' that comes from Garrus. "It had led me to a casino owner named Elijah Khan. He's been suspected of smuggling weapons onto the Citadel." _Answers the question of how the mercs were able to be armed._

"Spit it out, Asari."

Liara sighs at Javik and taps some commands on her console, playing a very damning – for Khan considering Shepard and company's track record – audio call. Directly after the attack on them at Ryuusei, Khan contacted their identity thief, cutting ties and all supplies to weaponry. Yet, even though the thief used one of the disguisers he always hated working Investigations, they were able to find out more about their mercenary group.

Turned out, it was a military corporation calling itself CAT6, made of Alliance soldiers discharged dishonorably from service. For Turians, that sort of discharge was nearly unheard of and something that mostly happened to outright criminals, and they weren't just released back into civilized society, but taken into service in a corrections facility. These men, according to the definition laid out by the Alliance, weren't necessarily as dangerous, but still a problem.

Yet, even all that they learned wasn't comparable, nor something they could go off of, to the casino owner's parting words. Apparently, Khan had information on the thief damning enough that he believed valuable enough to keep them and their mercenaries at bay under threat of releasing it to the Citadel's news networks, and they needed that information.

"Sounds like we need to play good cop, bad cop on Khan," Jane says after hearing all this, looking to him. "Rock, paper, scissors for who gets bad cop?"

"I don't know what that even means," he answers with a rumble. "But you know I play a better bad cop, anyways."

"That might not work," Liara interrupts, opening an image of what must be the casino as she explains. "If Khan sees you coming, he might think you are coming for revenge. This casino has a panic room." A section lights up. "Chances are that he's already entered it. You will need to disable its security. EDI can provide a program to hack the door, but the cameras and guards will complicate things."

Humming in thought, Garrus nods. "Small group, go in quiet while someone disarms the security system."

" _Doctor T'Soni, this evening the casino will be hosting a charity event to assist war refugees._ "

Garrus and Jane both sigh at the thought of having to get dressed up again, but, more importantly, at having to _go shopping_ again. That, in and of itself, was a nightmare thanks to his height and build and her constant critiques of 'why a dress isn't fit for battle'. True, they _did_ find themselves having to fight in their tattered clothes, of which they are _still_ wearing thanks to Liara's speed at finding this information, but he'd go through it all again just to see her in another, the way the fabric of a dress drapes over her curves the best sight in the galaxy aside from her naked form.

" _Thank you_ , Glyph," T'Soni says with a pointed look at the two soldiers acting like children. "Purchase some tickets while we devise a plan."

Their plan, on paper, seems quite simple. One person will go in through the ventilation shaft, disable the camera targeting the panic room's door while the couple in the casino will cover the infiltrator's back by disabling the security measures within the shaft. Again, simple in the planning stages, definitely not going to be so simple once they are 'on the ground', so to speak.

Worst part, he and his mate would have to admit, is getting dressed up _again_ , but at least Liara has taken the hard work of finding clothes from them and, instead, sent them upstairs to tend to and clean their wounds. Wounds which, up until now, they haven't paid any mind to or noticed besides a passing glance and he's more than sure it has less to do with adrenaline and more to do whatever the Leviathan had done to their brains.

About halfway upstairs, he gets an idea and stops. "Jane, head upstairs and I'll be right up."

"Something wrong?" she asks with a frown and he smiles, purring with a squeeze of her hand.

"I just had an idea to keep our family close and safe. Go start the shower and I'll be right up." Smiling, she nods and continues as he heads back down and finds Wrex. "I have a favor to ask."

"Oh? It better come with some Varren steaks."

"How about a cure for the Genophage?" He smirks at the Krogan's expression and huff.

"Gonna hold that above my head, are you?"

"Until it gets old, which won't be until I'm old and don't need you anymore," he answers with a rumbling chuckle. "I need you to go with Vega and escort my family here."

"The half-Krogan?"

Snorting, he shrugs and motions James over, ignoring Wrex and Aralahk's running joke when they were on the ship of trying to figure out where Vega had received Krogan DNA in his heritage, despite Jane's argument that humans were all capable of stacking on muscle if they worked hard enough on it.

"James, Wrex, I need you to go get my family. Here's their location. I'm going to contact them and tell them to be ready. Be gentle, my sister has a broken leg and my children are with them."

"Sister?" Vega perks up with a grin. "Baby or older?" He gives the younger man a look about how he thinks about the thought with his younger sister, but it doesn't stop the Lieutenant who continues as if completely oblivious. "Know what? Age is nothing but a number, right?"

"I knew I liked you, boy."

"Enough, damn it." Garrus rubs his brows with a sigh. "Just head out and I'll contact them to be ready. And Jimmy? Stay away from my sister. If she doesn't get you, I will."

Both leaving in chuckles, Garrus shakes his head and opens his Tool to call his father, the elder Vakarian picking up quickly. "Garrus?"

"Dad, I assume you heard what happened at Ryuusei?"

"Yes. And I take it you and your mate had something to do with it?" He sighs in exasperation, clearly not needing a verbal affirmation. "Spirits. I hope that you at least didn't cause it?"

"No. Look, I'm sending some of our friends to come get you and bring you here to our new apartment. Long story, but the same people who attacked us at the sushi place have stolen Jane's identity and they might try to kill those close to her. I need you and Sol to go with a Krogan named Wrex and a human named Vega and bring my babies and yourselves to safety."

"Have you told C-Sec?"

"Someone in C-Sec might be involved, dad." He fights not to just demand the older man just listen and, for once, stop questioning him, but he has to stay calm, even though his nerves are shot now that all the pieces are falling into place. He isn't worried that the identity thief knows of his children, there's no way unless they are part of the crew as his children don't exist in any sort of file or legal document, but if they go after his family, then his babies are in danger by association.

He can't let that happen. He _won't_.

"Just trust me on this. Please," he keens, begging the man to think of the children in his care, even if Garrus is being paranoid about how far this thief will go.

"Alright, Garrus. I trust you."

Rumbling in thanks, Garrus pulls himself to together and nods. "I know you'll keep them safe. And you all will be safe here until this all blows over."

With reassurances and promises of safe transport for his babies said, and repeated, he says his goodbyes and finally heads to his wife, seeing her dress half down and a worried frown on her face as he steps in. He frowns in confusion and rumbles in question as he goes to her, caressing her cheek. "What's wrong?"

"I haven't thought of the babies… Are they in danger?"

He smiles reassuringly and presses his forehead to hers, trying to calm her from the same worry he had had. Knowing now what he told himself to stop the inner panic, he says, "I've sent Wrex and James to get them and my dad and sister. And the twins aren't on any document _anywhere,_ so even if they tried to go after you and me, they wouldn't know we have children. They are safe in every way when Wrex brings them back."

She smiles and leans into his hand at that. "And _he_ will. If there's anything a Krogan like him cherishes, it's a child… and we have two."

Purring, he nods and looks her over. She's absolutely beautiful, no matter that she's covered in cuts and bruises, her dress barely holding together and easily discarded when he pushes her hands away. The shredded cloth is discarded as he kisses her, licking at her lips for entry and sliding his tongue inside when she opens in a sigh.

Tongues dance as she moans and pulls at his clothes, simply ripping them from his form. He doesn't care, not when it puts them closer and lets his plates pull apart without the pain of being confined behind tight fabric.

Her taste combined with her hands – and _her smell_ – has him hardening fast, sliding out hot, thick, and wet. His natural moisture slicks off and onto her skin as he pulls her closer and drops his mouth to lap at her neck, licking her wounds and skin alike without a care for the taste of metallic blood or the slight smokiness of spent sinks.

"Fuck… Garrus."

"That's what I'm doing, Jane," he whispers as he tugs at her ear with his mouth plates, growling when she shivers and the tiny hairs on her body rise. He loves that reaction in her, those little signs of her arousal he'd never get from any lesser species, always lesser compared to her in his eyes now.

Remembering what they're supposed to be doing, he gently starts to back her into the shower. His mouth never leaves her, however, as they seem to devour the other, sounds of pleasure swallowed by the other. Once inside the massive shower, possibly able to house two, maybe three, Krogan, he palms the commands without looking, sending a cold water over them both.

She yelps, or maybe they both do, and jump. Hands quickly fumble at the controls, quickly switching it to a hotter level as he trills in apology. "Sorry. Sorry."

Chuckling, she smiles and pulls him back down into their heated, needy kiss. Tongues shove and tangle with the other as she moans for him, hand wrapping around his length and pulling a wanton moan from his mouth. With such tiny hands, hands that can barely wrap around the widest, long ago used, base of him, she can pull everything from him, leave him drained and sated for the rest of his life. The only other things better than her hands that exist are her mouth and those otherworldly folds.

Folds he can still smell through the water and folds he has to bury himself into, but he instead drops to his knees and buries his face between her thighs with a long, low growl. Jane moans wantonly at that, neither of them caring at their guests or the sound proofing capabilities of the walls, as he roughly laps at her folds and lifts her leg over his shoulder for a better angle.

She leans, perhaps against the wall, but he barely notices as he shoves his rough tongue into her, starting to thrust with his mandibles spread wide and vocals vibrating thickly. She tastes so good, so musky yet sweet on his tongue, and he can feel the different textures against his tongue as her walls flutter, his force getting to her this time like it has all the times before.

When she comes apart with a cry, he groans and thrusts uselessly against the falling water, aching between his legs at the taste of her gaining a bit of salt as she coats his tongue and mouth plates. He laps greedily at her nectar until she's yanking on his fringe, forcing him up to kiss her. Her tongue shoves greedily into his mouth as she tastes herself on him, something he loves from her as much as he loves tasting himself on her tongue.

Shoving him back, she throws him the hottest smirk as tongue runs along her lip and she demands, "Fuck me, Garrus. Fuck and fill me so that your seed runs down my thighs like a flood."

He growls at that, at the image of actually filling her to that point where he doesn't trickle from her folds, but trails down her thighs in a constant flow, and he does just as she asks. Pushing her against the wall, he lifts her with firm hands on her rear and pulls her down over him, loud, shameless moans from them both combining to fill the room.

Following his instincts and desire to follow his mate's commands, he starts to ram into her, her back making wet shucking sounds as her wet skin presses and release from the tiled wall. Her walls clench around him with each pass of his ridges, like they always do, and it never ceases to pull needy thrums through his growls, driving his hips forward.

It takes a few thrusts, but he's soon able to pass completely into her, sheath and plates hitting against her skin with a grunt from her lip. At her cry of pleasure when he moves just so when fully hilted, he continues to do just that and seeing how a ridge from his spread plates rubs against that tiny bud she loves to receive attention to.

He growls at her look of utter pleasure and speeds up, getting closer and hungrier for completion. He feels it like a hungry burn in his stomach, a clenching of muscles under his plates as his body prepares to give his seed to his wife, to, in his instinctual mind, breed her as he has once before.

It's that thought that send him over with a growling roar, slamming his hips against hers as the oddest feeling overcomes him, his head growing light. Her scream helps him shake it off as she tightens around him, clenching and milking him for everything he has. They come down slowly, panting and smiling euphorically at the other. She pulls him into a kiss as she drops her legs, moving to separate, but something's wrong, and he cries out in pain, reflexively gripping her hips to stop her from moving and causing more pain.

"Holy shit! Did I hurt you?!"

"I… I don't know…" Hoisting her legs back on his hips to hold her, he drops a hand to their connection that doesn't seem to part without immense pain that nearly drops him to his knees. What he finds makes him gasp in shock, eyes going wide. "It… I can't be…"

"What?"

"I… I think I knotted you."

True to his assumption, and disbelief, he can feel how his base has filled with blood, swelling to lock within her. Even her folds are spread, stretched to fit him, and he can't figure out why, out of hundreds of years – and about twenty years of his own life – now is when his body has stepped back in evolution.

Then it hits him. The Leviathan.

"One in mind, one in body," he whispers as he looks to her, seeing her confusion and concern. "The Leviathan."

"You think they did this to you? With their mind fuckery?"

Shrugging, he has no other idea. "What would you think after all that's happened lately?"

Jane sighs and nods in defeat, wrapping her arms around his neck and cowl. "What do we do now? I mean, how long is it supposed to last?"

"I have no idea. Can't be too long considering I need blood in my brain." She snorts and he chuckles, rubbing her back before leaning against the wall to help support them. "I just hope it stops in time to go to this casino event."

"We can always be fashionably late… Though this ruins any chance at quickies unless you pull out."

"So like in my fledgling years," he jokes, to which he gets a firm smack on his shoulder.

"Unpleasant surprise aside, I could get used to being stuck, quite literally, to you after sex. Sort of ensures cuddling time."

He chuckles and nods, kissing her temple. "So you like primitive Turians?"

Groaning, she closes her eyes and says, "Let's not bring up Javik when having sex or soaking in the aftershocks?"

He nods with a smile and caresses her cheek with his mandible, nuzzling against her and also starting to see the benefit of this, just not when they have a time schedule. "Agreed."

They manage to separate around half an hour afterwards, though he's sure that was partially thanks to the lack of any sort of intimate touches. With those, he's sure the blood would've remained, or he would've needed to go another round when separated, but they managed to keep their hands off for the sake of the mission.

A mission which began not a second after they parted with the arrival of black robes with orange and red accents for himself that matched Jane's long dress that started as black around her torso and faded into a red that faded into orange towards the ground. Calling her beautiful again would only be repeating that which he thinks of her even in armor, but he does tell her in vocals he's sure she understands.

Hand in hand, they head for the casino down the way with Brooks in tow, and he's sure there task of trying to be inconspicuous might not play out as Liara as expected. Although, he'd be happy to have something go as it should for once.


	32. Chapter 32

-Jane-

'Mingle'.

Just what the hell that meant and how two battle hardened soldiers were supposed to do that was a quest in and of itself, something that would definitely prove to be effort enough not mentioning their _actual_ mission here to watch Brooks' back. Even now she was struggling not to toss away the useless bag in her hand, hike her dress up, and finally be able to fucking _walk_ without the flowing gown feeling like it was tangling in her legs.

Yet, let it not be said that Jane Vakarian, known as Commander Shepard, walks away from a mission no matter how difficult. She _will_ find this identity thief, even if it including playing nice with a bunch of pompous, rich assholes.

"Alright, Garrus, I got a thong riding up my ass, hair in my face, a dress I keep stepping on, and a husband in some sexy robes I'd much rather be fucking in our apartment, but we can do this." He chuckles at her as she lays her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Let's _mingle_."

"Right beside you, Jane." His voice is soft and soothing, a great aid to moving her feet up the stairs and into the main floor of the casino.

The central area is rounded by a bar on one side, a line of quasar machines along another that then leads to the gambling machines, a large decorative painting directly before them that, Jane suspects, is their ultimate target, and a set of stairs leading back and up towards a second level overlooking the main floor at their back.

Everyone here speaks not with vigor and excitement of a real party that would easily drown out the soft lounge music. Instead, they speak calmly and soft, portraying a sense of separation from those they are actually 'intending' to offer aid to. It's obvious to even Jane that this isn't really about refugees of war and more a chance to flaunt and sip at glasses of the most expensive drinks.

Walking to the lit bar, they order each a glass of a light wine. Even if it's just for the image of elegant event goers, there might be an instance where situation will call for it, so they choose something that won't knock them on the ground should every conversation with these people here 'call for a toast'.

With drinks in hand, they walk towards the betting floor, passing by the Quasar machines. Suddenly, she remembers something and chuckles softly, smiling up at her mate. "Remember that Salarian that wanted us to use his counting device on Flux's machines?"

He chuckles and nods slightly. "I'll admit, I was half sure you'd sneak behind my back and use it, then turn it over once you got your credits."

She hides her smirk and doing just that, saying, "Would I ever do that?"

"Of that, I have no doubt. In fact, I think you _did_ do it and I can tell by your refusal to openly deny." He raises a brow in unconvinced suspicion, but drops it when they approach the roulette tables with hopes of hiding in plain sight.

Garrus puts a bet down and, just as she's about to make hers, a woman approaches with a glass she can barely hold upright, dumping her chips. "Twenty three!"

"Are you sure, ma'am?" People at the table look to this new comer with raised brows at the odds she's betting on, but she simply gives him a look.

"Hey. I know what I'm doing," this newcomer says and crosses her arms in a huff, making the croupier shrug and take others' bets. Jane shakes her head, too surprised to place a bet in time, and draws the woman's attention. "You know, you look a lot like someone I know." She gasps and spills a bit of her drink, offering a flip of her hand in greeting. "You must be auditioning."

"Auditioning?" She lifts a brow. "For what?"

Scoffing, they ignore the table as the younger woman continues. "Haven't you heard? There's talk that _Nexys Phenoma_ is planning a romance film based on Commander Shepard and her Turian husband!"

Garrus coughs a bit on his drink at her back, but Jane ignores him and tries very hard to hide her thoughts on how stupid _that_ would be. Instead, she continues the conversation by asking, "Who is Nexys Phenoma? She something special?" _Wait. What do I care if it's utter shit? Right, because that's_ _ **our**_ _names associated with it._

"Who is Nexys Phenoma? _Who is Nexys Phenoma?!_ " The woman's eyes widen and she nearly drops her glass. "Oh. My. God! She's, like, the most famous romance writer and director _ever_. She wrote and directed Fleet and Flotilla! _The_ Fleet and Flotilla!"

_Oh. Great. Just what I need… My life becoming another Fleet and Flotilla. Wait, wait. '_ _**Fleet and Navy** _ _…'_

She hides her chuckle at her own joke as she takes a sip, soon saying, "I'm afraid you must have me mistaken then. I hadn't heard of, nor considered, an audition for the part of the Great Commander Shepard." _Jesus, that practically hurt trying to say with a straight face._

"Yeah, you're probably right. All the same because, no offense, I don't think you look like her."

"Like who?"

"Commander Shepard."

That gets a soft chuckle from the man who's supposed to be pretending to gamble and Jane kicks his foot with a soft flutter of her dress, making him grunt slightly thanks to that heel she's sporting. If this woman doesn't think she looks like, well, herself, then she's either an idiot – which is highly likely considering the amount of credits she keeps putting on a single bet over and over – or Jane's managed to hide her identity quite well with something as simple as makeup and her hair down.

_"Commander. I'm by the grate leading to the shaft upstairs. It'll take me a bit to get through the security with Doctor T'Soni's lenses, but I'll let you know when I'm through."_

"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Ms?"

"Ashland," the woman says with a drunken smile. "Aishwarya Ashland. I don't expect we'll meet again, though."

 _Hopefully not, if I can help it._ She smiles and gives a nod in goodbye and looks to Garrus to see him still gambling, knowing he'll linger here before joining upstairs in order to keep down suspicion. Leaving him there, Jane heads away from the gambling floor in hopes to hear from either Brooks or Liara on the situation.

 _"Shepard,"_ Liara comms as Jane makes her way towards the stairs. _"I've placed resonance emitter lenses in your clutch. They will let you see security grids and wiring in order to help Maya when she comes to a security measure in the ventilation shaft."_

She speaks softly, her glass to her lips, when she states, "Shouldn't Garrus use these? You know I can't bypass worth a shit."

_"They aren't made for his eyes. Don't worry. EDI has ensured that your Omni-Tool is equipped and able. Just access the program and don't get caught while it take the time to run."_

Sighing, she nods and finishes her sip before seeing Garrus making his way to her. She smiles at him and takes his offered elbow. "Win anything?"

"Lost more than I won." He chuckles and shakes his head. "Should have known my luck isn't too good on a mission of any kind."

She snorts at that and starts to lead him to the dance floor on this level. "Come on. Let's dance to pass the time."

He chuckles and follows as Liara deadpans, _"We are trying to have you blend in inconspicuously, not attract the entire casino's attention with your… questionable dancing, Shepard."_

"She's right," her mate agrees with a smirk. "Wouldn't want them to throw us out for disturbing the peace." Stepping closer to her, he purrs and flicks a mandible, speaking with a lowered voice. "But we should show them one day what you can do."

She fights off her laugh with a disgraceful snort, shaking her head. "What I do isn't really the classy kind of dancing, Garrus."

"Then we learn-"

 _"Um… I hate to interrupt,"_ Brooks whispers, barely able to be picked up on the comm. _"But there's a guard right below me_."

"I got it," Garrus answers and kisses her cheek before heading down to see to the problem.

Walking through the dancing to the sit at the bar, she holds her glass up to a man beside her in greeting. "Enjoying the party?" she asks when he partially returns the glass raise.

"Young people party. I drink. Tonight it's Ryncol on the rocks."

"They serve that tonight? Damn, why wasn't I told?"

He actually chuckles at that and offers a hand. "Jonah Ashland, of Eldfell-Ashland Energy."

"Jane Quinn." She decides to use her mother's last name, a name she's surprised she remembers after over twenty years of never acknowledging, in hopes that she can maintain the secrecy for their infiltration attempt until they are _sure_ that they have Khan pinned down. "Something tells me you aren't really here to enjoy the evening like most."

He shakes he head and takes a long drink, the ice clinking together. "It was my daughter Aish's idea. She's got a good heart, but she's unfortunately going through a little, well, call it a 'self-absorbed' stage."

Jane chuckles and shakes her head, explaining. "We've met. Apparently she thinks I'm not cut out for movies."

"Ah," he says, as if knowing exactly what she must have gone through downstairs. "Then maybe you should order yourself a Ryncol yourself."

They both share a laugh and drink, small on her part, as she takes her leave to meet up with her mate downstairs. He's in the middle of speaking – being talked at is more like it by the exasperated look on his face – with a couple of Asari in flowing gowns, but he manages to close the conversation politely and greet her as they walk towards the large fountain to regroup and, hopefully, allow Jane to get the lenses in her eyes.

Luckily, she manages to find the restrooms and get them in under the guise of placing in her temporary implants to alter her iris coloration. That ruse, in fact, wasn't even one she had planned, but something brought up by one of the other ladies at the sinks.

"Oh, are they those new 'Beautiful Soul Window' ocular implants?" A woman in a long mahogany dress says with wide eyes full of awe and – _seriously, lady?_ – a bit of envy. "I have _always_ wanted some. How do they feel?"

 _Well, if you'll let me put them in in peace so I don't poke a damn eye out, I'd tell you, dammit._ She doesn't speak her mind, however, and instead answers with a lie. "Oh, I love them. I barely remember my own eye color anymore."

That seems to make the woman pout as she huffs and tosses her hands lightly. "Now I _really_ want some. Did you get them here at the Citadel shop?" Jane nods, not really having anything else to answer with and hoping there actually _is_ a shop here. "Oh! I have to go. Today even!"

"Trish," another woman enters, looking very similar to the other, and takes what has to be her sister's arm. "Come on and see who I found. A nice _doctor_."

They both share a soft chuckle and 'Trish', apparently, look to Jane with a wide smile. "Thanks. You've convinced me of finally getting them. Though, I might go for the permanent ones." She turns to her sister as they head out of the restrooms, asking her opinion as their voices drift off.

Rolling her now slightly hazel eyes, Jane heads out to find her mate, seeing him talking with something she hadn't expected to be here. So surprised to see one of their crew members here, she walks a bit faster than the dragging feet pace that everyone here seems to have and approaches them. "Arcanus? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I was invited," he answers as he takes a delicate sip from his glass, his mandible rings clinking softly against the glass. "I have not hidden the Blue Suns' involvement in the refugee situation."

"We had to _buy_ tickets and you just had one handed over? Why didn't you say anything?"

"It was not made relevant." Lifting a brow plate, he looks them over with a considering hum. "Although, I assume you are not here for the charity event."

Garrus nods and growls low. "Someone has stolen Jane's identity and are now trying to kill her."

Reguix growls at that and looks from one to the other in question, but she simply shrugs, turning his own words against him with a smirk. "It didn't seem relevant."

He sighs and flicks his mandibles in a move she knows all too well as exasperation. Composing himself, he nods and sets his glass down. "With matters taken care of with the Suns, I am now willing and readily at your disposal."

"We're after Khan," Garrus explains quietly. "We need to get into his panic room and have a man in the vents working at it now."

 _"Uh, guys."_ The panic doesn't sound good and Jane stops mid sip of her drink. _"Sh – Hey… I may have set off a silent alarm for the panic room. I need help!"_

"Fuck," she curses and looks to Garrus. "Brooks set off an alarm-"

"I will see to it, Shepard," Arcanus assures as he looks around and spots the casino guard moving through the floor without the typical direction of an observing patrol. "You should see how else you may need assist your infiltration tech."

She nearly snorts at the woman he clearly has no idea of, else he wouldn't be so confident about. Sure, she is proving to be skilled, but she's, put plainly, an idiot that should be nowhere near a weapon. Or responsibility that involves their lives.

Motioning Garrus to follow her as Arcanus makes his way across the floor, she heads towards the back room. With a glance at the Tool with the schematics of the casino, she sees that her assumption was correct and that they are, in fact, heading towards the location of the panic room. Only problem? It was currently guarded by two guards and overlapping camera feeds.

"Fuck." She steps off to the side and turns to her husband, lowering her voice. "Two cameras plus the two guards. But that panic room is _right_ there."

"I can distract one of them for you, but you'd have to work fast."

She bites back the second curse she wants to use and rubs her forehead. "I don't know if I can hack those cameras fast enough not to be seen." Eyes widening with a sudden idea, she pats his shoulder in 'wait here' as she walks back around the dividing wall, looking for their surprise ally in this.

Seeing him across the floor speaking with a finely dressed Turian woman, Jane goes to the bar and stands at it where she knows he can see from his peripheral. She orders a drink as she waits for him to end his conversation and approach, feeling his robes brush against her bare arm as he stands close.

"I assume you need my assistance further?"

"Yes," she says as she takes her drink and sips it, barely getting more than a drop past her lips. "Either you and Garrus or you and I need to distract the guards before the panic room while the last disables the cameras and opens the security block."

"Then should not your mate do it? He is more skilled with tech."

"Probably right. Won't take long to send him the program data." She looks to him with a raised brow. "You in?"

"I have actually come to enjoy the trouble you and yours get into, Commander Shepard." He chuckles and sets his glass down with a nod. "Just tell me who I should distract."

She chuckles and heads back towards the room where Garrus is busying himself with speaking to a shady looking Turian. Whatever they are speaking of has her husband deep in thought, interested, and in a mood that is actually better than the annoyed and bored one he was in the majority of the night. Whoever it is that has his attention, she envies her husband for meeting while all she had to talk to was an air-headed woman and her responsible for spoiling her father.

"Ready," she says as she approaches him, giving the other man a nod in greeting. Whoever he is, the sheer fact that he's not with or acting like the others gives her a sense that he won't be a problem. Hell, even the look in Garrus' eyes and his posture don't give her the sense of defensiveness he'd have if he felt the man would be a problem.

"Till we meet again," the man says with a rasping voice, leaning against the wall with a slight smirk. "And enjoy your evening."

She chooses not to question her husband just yet why the man is so smug as there is a mission to attend to, but she takes solace in Garrus' smooth vocals that betray no sense of unease at the shared conversation. Taking that as a good sign to drop it, she turns to him when they are far from any listening ears.

"Alright, you are going to use EDI's program to disable the security measures while I and Arcanus distract the guards." She opens her Tool and sends him the program, watching as he examines it and nods. "Ready?"

"Ready." A look at Arcanus gets his nod and she takes a deep breath, glancing over at the guards before she gives Garrus a nod in 'go'.

He moves just as she starts to breathe fast and widen her eyes, holding them open until they start to feel that sting. Soon, she starts to tears up and, ignoring the older man's confused look, slaps him. "How could you?!"

He starts with a growl, about to react - his eyes actually brighten in rage – but he soon understands as he relaxes and drops his shoulders. "I don't know what you're-"

"Don't say that to me!" She starts sniffling, blinking rapidly to keep the tears flowing, and, from the corner of her eye, notices the guards looking to the other before starting to approach. "I saw you! You… you bastard!"

"Ma'am. Is there something the matter?"

Sobbing, she does that typical stuttering as she throws them a look of utter pain. "He… he… he…"

"It was a simple mistake, honey," Arcanus rumbles and turns to the men. "I shared a drink with another woman and she… she has assumed the worse. I assure you, she is merely overreacting-"

"Overreacting! I never-"

"Ma'am, sir. You're both going to have to calm down or we're going to have to escort you both out."

"You cannot do this to me." Reguix growls and stands before the two men, standing taller than them and, Jane notices, pulling all attention to himself. _Smart bastard. Good work._ "I am one of the highest contributors to this event. Would you be the one to explain to Mr. Khan why his charity is suddenly lacking funds _I_ would have provided?"

She slips out as they stumble over explanation under his coercion and rushes to Garrus and Brooks, nearly stumbling into the panic room thanks to that damn dress and her heels. Reminding herself to _absolutely_ owe Arcanus a drink or two for taking the fall, and slap, with the guards, she hits the shut command on the door, she finally gets a look at the man who's not even bothered enough to look at them.

"Khan. It's time we talk," she snaps and reaches into the clutch for her weapon. _Just in case_.

Garrus growls and goes around the desk, sighing as he spins the chair to show a bloody stain in the center of the man's shirt. "And I _finally_ won the chance for bad cop."

"Fucking dammit."

Brooks goes to his computer and her eyes widen as she sputters and says, "There's… he deleted the files! Did I…" She gasps. "Did I do this when I…" _Tripped the alarm? Probably_.

Rumbling, her mate goes to the terminal and begins to search it. "We should take the drives. With luck, whoever deleted these files didn't have the time to wipe the system completely and, since it's comms are still functional, it wasn't just fried, either."

"Hey… we might be able to track the thief if Khan called them!" Brooks steps forwards and nudges him aside, accessing the comm controls.

Static fills the vidscreen before that same disguised voice comes through. " _Elijah. Come crawling back_?"

"Nope," Jane answers with a cross of her arms, wishing she could see the face of the prick. "He won't be much of anything now."

" _I see you've recovered from flopping on the floor like a fish_."

"Tough shit coming from someone needing to hide themselves behind a synthesizer and disgraced merc group. What? Couldn't suck enough dick to get one of the main three?"

" _Brave. I thought as much, but your words are just that. Words to make the small seem less insignificant. You have nothing. All you can do is wait for the hammer to fall_."

Garrus growls and stands before the screen, narrowing his eyes in attempt to see a better image. "A coward talking of significance? Face us properly."

" _In time. And when I do. I'm going to take everything you have and everything you are, Shepard."_

The comm shuts just as Jane steps forward to demand they put action to those idle threats and she looks at Brooks expectantly, but sighs when she sees the look. She doesn't need to hear that the tracking failed to complete in time, she sees it on the woman's face.

"Fuck." Sighing, she runs a hand over her head and tightens her hands into fists. "Get the data drives and-"

" _Attention all patrons_ ," the casino wide announcement pulls their attention, causing them to frown in concern. " _There has been a station-wide C-Sec alert issued. Please remain indoors until the situation has been dealt with. Thank you and have a nice evening."_

"What the fuck is going on?" Accessing her comm, she contacts Liara. "Liara, did you get that?"

" _Yes, Shepard. Something's wrong. C-Sec has gone silent all through the station. I'm checking – Goddess…"_

"What?" Her mate demands with a growl. "What's going on?"

 _"It's… It's Cerberus. Cerberus is attacking the Citadel._ "

That stops Jane in her footsteps. "What? That's impossible. How did they get on the station?"

" _I don't know, but C-Sec has completely gone silent. Shepard, we need to do something."_

"Everyone get suited." Garrus takes command and she and Brooks follow him out, data in hand and heading straight for the apartment with Arcanus now in tow – he apparently dropping his tail shortly after they had entered the panic room without incident. "We're moving against Cerberus immediately."


	33. Chapter 33

-Garrus-

C-Sec was a mess and, even after dividing the team into three squads, it was taking all they had to clear out the way to first get into and through the facility. Officers were shot in the back, left half dressed in the showers, and just overall taken by complete surprise by the Cerberus attack.

It stunk of inside sleeper cells which, according to Jane, wasn't something beneath the human organization. They apparently did it in the Alliance Archives on Mars and they did it now, murdered people he once worked beside and around in cold blood.

How Cerberus managed to infiltrate is still a bit of a mystery, but Commander Bailey had a suspicion from the comm chatter that it was an ambush from within, an infiltration succeeded by hiding within specially shielded crates that had been impounded. The first wave of troops were brought right into C-Sec headquarters without officers even knowing. A Trojan horse situation, as Bailey called it, and, even if Garrus didn't know exactly what that meant, he _did_ completely agree with the obvious anger in the human man's voice.

Arriving in the offices of the Internal Affairs department, where the Executor's own office overlooks from the next level, they hear gunfire. With word that the Salarian Councilor was visiting his close friend and head of C-Sec, they rush in with weapons drawn.

What they find isn't a good sign for Garrus' hopes for C-Sec. Instead of a garrison of men holding their own against Cerberus to defend the Councilor, a single figure fires from their cover. It isn't until Garrus drops a Guardian closing in that they move from their cover and into another, revealing themselves for that moment.

It's his friend, perhaps the only in the entirety of C-Sec, Decian Chellick, holding off the troops of Cerberus soldiers on his own. The situation is bad, Garrus can tell even with his mind on whittling down the troops with his mate and Wrex, and it looks like they managed to make it just in time. Chellick is severely outnumbered, but, thanks to the three soldiers – two of which who are starting to get the hang of their newest skills on the battlefield – and how they are now drawing fire, the tide seems to be changing for the better.

That is, until Garrus sees, in that strange sort of slow motion that surrounds him with every pump of adrenaline in his system, a flare of red directly over his friend's chest just before his body jerks. He calls out just as he sees a blue blossom over the older man's chest and quickly turns, firing at the sniper above their position before she can drop back behind cover.

_Jane, he's hurt bad._

**_Go. I got your back_**.

He watches she charge into the fray directly before him and he takes the opening, sprinting between the surprised Cerberus troops and ducking under one's attempt to try and stab him with their Omni Blade. Sliding into Decian's cover, his eyes widen at the pool of blue that has to have been forming since his old friend came behind cover.

Throwing that shock aside, he grabs a MediGel and slaps it onto his friend's chest. "Decian, where are you hurt? You're bleeding out."

Chellick coughs and chuckles. "That… won't help… save it…"

He growls and looks over the older man, seeing the numerous wounds over the man's body. Put frankly, Decian's gone through hell trying to hold them off. Adding to the shot in his chest, he's been hit in the waist and the arm, with what looks like injuries from glass – probably the broken window to his office that must have rained down in this position – cut through the thinner sections of his lightly armored clothes.

"Dammit," he curses as he ducks out of cover and takes down two Guardians in quick succession. Looking back, he presses his hand and what he thinks is the worst wound, his rapidly bleeding chest wound. There's not much else he can do, not without immediate medical attention, and he hates feeling his close friend's life slipping out between his fingers.

_I need help. He's bleeding out, Jane._

**_We're trying. Just stay down and tend to him as best you can._ **

Even he can tell that she knows her words are empty, but he thanks her all the same for them. Turning his attention back to Decian, he trills and presses his already dark blue hand firmer against the flood of blood. "Don't give up, dammit."

"Council…r safe… Udina… Cerberus…" Chellick coughs, a wet, blood soaked sound that sends cobalt droplets against Garrus' mandibles and chin. "Working toget… together…"

"Decian, shut up," he sternly orders as he takes the man's searching hand, gripping firmly even though its grip is too weak, too frail.

"Good… kid…" He chuckles, clearly not listening to Garrus' demands. His green eyes are glazed, distant as he starts to grow limp, making the younger Turian keen slightly in worry, in defiance to let this happen, to watch his friend slip through his fingers like sand. "…stupid… some…times."

Garrus huffs a weak laugh, barely audible over the dying gunfire. "I like to call it inventive."

The man simple rumbles as a mandible flicks weakly as he hears footsteps, looking up to find his wife's concerned face and the sound of gunfire has ceased. He gives her a shake of the head, there is so saving his friend, nothing to do but be here for him in the last moments. It hurts, eats him up inside, to be able to do nothing, but he knows that once death grips something, begins to engulf them in its grasp, there is no use trying to pry them away.

"Spirits… with you…"

Garrus closes his eyes with a pained rumble, squeezing the cold hand in his as he offers a spiritual prayer with hopes that, this time, he will be heard. "Spirits embrace you."

Closing his eyes as the rasping, wet breaths slow and finally come to a stop, Garrus barely notices Jane has moved closer until she lays a hand on his shoulder. Before she can speak, they start to hear the sizzling of someone trying to blow the doors from the level below, connecting Internal Affairs to the shuttle pad.

He growls and grabs her, pulling her behind him as they sliding into another cover – _I'll be damned if I fight over the corpse of my friend_ – just as the doors are forced open by Cerberus forces. These are different, however, being led by single man in black armor, sword in hand, that shouts commands with shielded eyes scanning the room.

"Wrex," Jane says over the comm as she pops up and throws a controlling orb of energy at an approaching Phantom. "We need to find that Councilor."

"He's safe somewhere. Decian must have hidden him," Garrus growls as he leans out and takes down two snipers before they can completely rise from cover before overloading a turret.

As they fire at the Cerberus troops, Garrus can't get a good shot at the solitary man slowly pacing around the desks, a smirk on his face. He sees the telltale glimmer of barriers over him and knows a perfectly angled shot would take both it and him down, but he can't get it with so many troopers in his way _and_ the need to watch over his mate despite their connection still so deeply ingrained in his mind.

The man's target becomes clear as he yanks the previously cloaked Salarian Councilor from beneath a desk and moves to slide a blade through him when, like so many months before, Thane seems to appear from nowhere. True, he most likely slipped in and behind the desks for cover while all attention was on the fight, but Garrus can't deny that Thane's much needed help in protecting the Councilor is needed right about now as they're being overrun by a bigger number of Cerberus forces than they have seen within C-Sec up until now.

Only now, he can't cover their friend's back thanks to Councilor Valern finding his way in the middle of Garrus' scope directly between himself and the battling assassins. He growls in frustration and calls for help from his mate, calling out to her.

_I need a shot at the assassin. Get Valern out of the way. I'll cover you._

Without needing to hear her affirmative, he fires at a trooper directly in front of her and fires at a second as she lifts from cover, energy flowing. A Centurion falls as she shoots across the field and into a group of troopers closer to the Councilor, sending a Dominate, as she calls it, into one and punching another in the unshielded throat.

Watching her back, he drops one after the other but they never seem to end, constantly flowing in through the doors. He can't focus long enough on the battling assassins to get a shot even now that Jane is closing in on the Councilor with a speed of her very charges.

Suddenly, he sees it, the best shot he has, and takes it. His weapon's fire whipping over Valern's shoulder and past Thane as he turns to the side with a deflection of that blade. The man's barriers are stronger than Garrus anticipated, his shot hitting and ricocheting off the biotic protection and merely hitting the man in the shoulder.

Whoever he is, he recovers fast, spinning into the wound and raising his weapon. It almost happens too fast, and Garrus wouldn't have been able to see it if not for the new alterations to his mind, but he sees it in a torturous slow motion as the blade whips up and slices through air.

Thane, however, doesn't have the speed of the Leviathan's gifted senses and his illness has greatly hampered his reflexes. He isn't able to move fast enough and, unfortunately, the white flash of blade slices through the front of his suit and chest, ripping from him a bright splash of blood.

"Thane!" Jane calls to their injured friend and shoves the Councilor down, firing at the man, but even Garrus knows it's no use, not with the man creating an artificially enhanced barrier around him as he slowly begins to round around to his men. Even Garrus' shots do nothing to the barrier and he silently curses and promises to modify his weapon to not let this happen again as the man turns tail and starts to run. "Fuck!"

She starts running with a wave of energy, through the Cerberus troops remaining and disregarding any chance of Garrus covering her back, but she's too slow, too weighed down by weapons and armor as the assassin jumps onto a skycar, boots magnetizing.

**_Get your plated ass to me!_ **

 

He looks to Wrex and motions her position, then the confused and divided Cerberus troops. "Wait for the others and hold this position, clear C-Sec. I'm going with Jane."

"You're both idiots," he responds with a chuckle, starting to charge forward with blasts of his shotgun and punches to those too close. "I got your back!"

Under the Krogan's cover, Garrus runs, accessing his comm as he watches his mate ahead throw a group off the ledge before breaking into a skycar with her glowing fist. "Bailey. Medical team to Internal Affairs. Wrex holding area."

He shuts off his side of the comm as he jumps into the open door and immediately begins piloting, speeding towards Bailey's directions of a Presidium shuttle pad. Speeding to it brings them up against gunships, something their C-Sec cruiser has no sort of protection against or weapons for, and it's all he can do to, quite literally, crash them into the Presidium Commons in order to get them to the ground without involving a fiery explosion.

While not where they want to be, they have no choice but to move fast through the Commons towards Shalmar Plaza, the Council's destination, fighting their way there through Cerberus soldier after Cerberus soldier. At least, he figures, the two of them have plenty of cover and chances for him to rise up on higher ground when he climbs up onto the store fronts and fires down.

Climbing through and out of the Keeper tunnels to bypass the locked path, they hear a voice they hadn't expected to hear in, well, maybe forever.

"That what you call shooting, you fucking bastards?!"

**_Holy shit. Zaeed?_ **

_Sounds like it._ He answers as they climb up and into a planter, firing immediately to cover the old merc's back as he throws grenades into the oncoming fray.

Garrus first focusses on the far off snipers, then guardians before taking on the engineers, while his mate drops the charging, bladed phantoms before they get close, even sometimes turning them against their own. Soon, it is just the three of them against a small squad of troopers led by a single Centurion, but he and Jane have a perfect plan for them.

 _Charge into the group when I Overload the Centurion, drop this mine_ , he smacks one into the palm of her hand, _and charge back into me._

 ** _Looking for pain?_** She asks with a smirk on her lips as she glows blue. **_I like that in a man_** **.**

She moves fast, ramming into a trooper as he Overloads the Centurion, then, quick as a flash and faster than the mine can activate and explode, she is slamming into his body, sending them both against the wall at his back. It _should_ hurt, but doesn't, at least not as much as it once did on Omega, and he knows it has everything to do with some kind of heightened pain response which can both be a blessing and curse.

Reminding himself to make sure they look into injuries later, he looks to Zaeed with a chuckle. "Couldn't help finding trouble."

"You bloody sods made me soft," he responds with a firm shake to their hands. "How'd I know you two'd be the center of this shit?"

"People love us," Jane says as she starts to walk hurriedly. "We need to find the Council."

 _"I got eyes on the Council with help from your Quarian friend, Shepard_ ," Bailey comms just as they are sent scrambling for cover by a dropped Atlas, the mech arming itself immediately and firing. " _They're riding the Plaza Lifts right in your area. They got a tail. Looks bad._ "

"That's our assassin!" She yells over the sound of machine gun fire.

**_I'll draw it's attention. You kill the fucker._ **

Before he has the chance to question her and demand he know more than 'I'll distract it', she's grabbing a mine from his suit and running to another cover, drawing the mech's attention a split second after.

Understanding what she's planning, he looks to Zaeed and motions him to move to the opposite end of cover. "Fire at it when it's targeting Jane too closely, draw its attention."

The man nods, not questioning after serving together in a life or death situation once before, and pops out of cover, firing long enough to make the mech turn before ducking down. With he and Jane taking the Atlas' attention entirely to themselves, it gives Garrus the perfect opportunity to find a perch that he can get the perfect shot from.

Then it happens, what he and his mate were planning. She runs and throws the mine, sliding into cover as Garrus fires. Two things happen in tandem, the explosion of the proximity mine and his bullet firing through the burst of flame and shrapnel, tearing into the pilot's unexpecting skull.

" _Might want to get yourselves in an elevator. Looks like there's an Alliance shuttle approaching the shuttle pad._ "

"Dammit, do whatever you can to slow them!" Jane runs to the lift, punching the command before turning to the aged merc. "Zaeed, I need you to cover us. Can you hold here?"

"You think I'm some damn invalid?" He cocks his weapon. "Get your arses out of here."

They rush into the elevator hall, but a moment too late as the doors slide closed just as they catch a glimpse of black and white. Jane tightens her hands into fists and motions the door of the next lift, running to it and trying to pry it open.

With his own help, they get through and ride the elevator up, racing against the Cerberus one even _with_ Bailey's - but truly EDI's, they both know - help. Fighting on top of a rising lift wasn't what he had planned, but when Phantoms drop onto their already small vicinity, they have no choice.

Jane easily uses her barrier to block before blasting the woman off while Garrus waits for the woman to land, kicking her in the face and off the ledge. Of the next two, one meets a gruesome fate at the end of his mate's shotgun while the other goes after him.

Dodging her blade slash, he grabs her wrist and breaks her elbow with the palm of his open hand to send the blade to the ground. The woman beneath the masks makes a hissing groan of pain, but it's ignored as he uses the position to turn and throw her off the side.

**_Here's our ride. Jump!_ **

He follows her command without question, jumping onto the next lift with a heavy thump. They hear voices just before bullets fly up around their feet, sending them practically dancing. He'd laugh in any other situation when his mate yells "Stop shooting at me you fucking assholes", but it only seems to make the occupants angrier as they force stop the lift, momentum sending them nearly sprawled across the roof.

Waiting a moment for the shooter to move on with the Council, he motions her to watch his back as he quickly opens the hatch to the lift. He quickly moves aside to avoid a shot that doesn't come and nods in okay to drop down, following her shortly after.

Making it out of the lift hall, they hear hurriedly, nearly panicked voices of people the _once_ knew.

"Dammit… Kaidan, are you okay?!"

"I'm alright, Ash… Cerberus took out my shuttle!"

"Everyone, back to the elevator," Williams, now a Spectre, apparently, shouts as she motions to their direction. As she turns, seeing them, she whips up her pistol and quickly stands between them, the Councilors, and an injured Alenko, who has also raised his weapon. "Fuck. I knew you'd be with Cerberus."

"Wait. Hang on!" Kaidan lowers his weapon slightly, his clearly broken arm on his other side easily making him the weaker and less hostile of the two obstacles, but Garrus keeps his pistol trained on him in a feigned standoff. "There has to be an explanation."

"Explanation my ass, she has a weapon drawn on a Councilor _and_ she's attacking with Cerberus!"

"Cut the shit, Williams," Jane snaps, scowling. "Use your fucking brain for once and realize I have nothing to do with Cerberus. If I did, I certainly wouldn't be wasting my time stopping an assassin."

"Shepard's right," Kaidan adds. "I was just on the Presidium with Shepard fighting off Cerberus."

"What?" That confuses both Garrus _and_ Jane, the former rumbling with his question and making the Major frown. "Jane wasn't on the Presidium."

"I _fought_ with Shepard." He frowns, as if betrayed. "Tell them, Shepard."

"See?" Udina shouts over the sirens in the distance, storming to the terminal to force open the elevators. "She's trying to manipulate every-"

 _Move, Jane._ He growls as he fires two quick bursts without either target moving, hitting first Alenko in the shoulder holding his weapon, then Williams in the same manner. Both are falling as Udina drops to the ground, this odd connection of communication between the two working.

Ashley is the first to recover, lifting herself to to sit against the railing with her gun raised. "You… you fucking asshole! You shot me!"

"Udina is a traitor," Jane says as she kicks the weapons out of the woman's hands. "Trust me or not, we get the fucking job down."

"Fuck you, you bitch. You traitorous bitch."

Jane's eyes narrow in slight pain at that as she tosses a MediGel pack at her, then goes to Kaidan, who looks at her in hurt betrayal mixed with a dazed sort of confusion. He, at least, doesn't yell at her or curse her, with is better, Garrus supposes.

"What… what's going on?"

"I don't know, but the Salarian Councilor has proof that Udina is a traitor, working with Cerberus."

Shaking his head, he says, "No. I meant-"

Garrus snaps around, losing their words to the sound of the sizzling as someone tries to force the doors open. He calls out to Jane as feels her stand and ready her weapon just as the doors swing open, Bailey, Wrex, and three C-Sec officers raising their weapons. The Commander is the first to lower his weapon and Wrex chuckles, keeping his weapon raised in tease before lowering it last.

"We came to offer help, but… looks like you took care of it."

"Then it's true?" Councilor Tevos steps forward. "I don't understand…"

"Wh… what?" Ashley pulls herself to her feet. "You got to be kidding."

Wrex snorts and crosses his arms. "Looks like Shepard pulled your asses out of the fire."

" _Shepard. There is something wrong._ " The AI sounds in a near panic, full of, could it be, fear? He's never heard her in such a state, he realizes, in all the time he's known her.

"What is it, EDI?" She looks to him in concern as Bailey starts to usher the Councilors and injured out.

" _Someone has bored the Normandy. They are attempting to -_ " Static and electronic feedback assaults their comm.

"What the hell was that?" He asks, rumbling in shock. "EDI?"

" _Shepard. Someone has disabled my control of the Normandy as well as all sensory input."_ She drops to a somber, worried tone. " _I am only in control of this platform…_ "

"Shit. Did you get a look at who it was? Please don't tell me it was our identity thief."

" _Shepard. It was… you._ "


	34. Chapter 34

-Jane-

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" She practically growls with her husband as she starts to storm to the shuttle pad. With hopes, _someone_ will already have their asses in a shuttle and on their way.

" _Someone impersonating you has taken control of the Normandy and cut my connection to the systems before I could stop them._ "

"Fuck. Someone get me a shuttle, _now_!"

" _On it, Shepard_ ," Joker comes onto the comm. " _Cortez has this baby singing."_

" _That is not necessary."_ Arcanus' tone is familiar – _and calm? Seriously?_ \- as he interrupts the comm. " _A Blue Suns shuttle is in your vicinity."_

"Do we want to know what the Suns are doing?" Garrus asks with a rumble as they start to see a flicker of deep blue and white heading directly for them. "I don't supposed they're holding the station against Cerberus in C-Sec's stead?"

" _With C-Sec suffering the brunt of Cerberus' initial assault, I believed it prudent to assist in protecting the station I call 'home'."_

Her mate shrugs at that, willing to take that explanation, and she hops onto the shuttle when the doors slam open. Next is Garrus, followed by the heavy Krogan. It's cramped, but they manage as the shuttle is moving even before the hatch is slide shut again.

Garrus looks to her for permission before commanding through the comm. "Joker, Cortez. We need teams to retake the Normandy. I want as many that'll fit on a shuttle on it and heading towards the docks."

She lets him take the lead on coordinating the crew as she checks through her arms, seething in rage at the person claiming her ship. She may not be the smartest person in the galaxy, far from it, but she doesn't need to be told that they're soon going to meet this identity thief of hers in person.

A wrench is thrown into their plans to regroup and take the Normandy when they find it already prepping the engines, the massive mass effect turbines starting to glow and buzz with energy just beyond the kinetic barrier. There's no time for reinforcements, not when it's apparent this imposter doesn't need the necessary pre-departure checks. She's reminding herself to have a little 'talk' with EDI about how that's possible… later, when they aren't about to lose her ship once it jumps to FTL.

"Dammit, we need something to stop them from jumping," she says as she sends a Reave into a group of mercenaries approaching, their Blue Suns escort apparently only taking them into the docks before moving back into the Citadel to complete whatever task it was set on before. "Joker?" No response but static. "Shit!"

"Must have jammed the comms," Wrex grunts as she shakes her fists in the air in frustration.

Garrus rumbles in agreement as he fires into a group, dropping two with one shot – his favorite thing to do now that he responds faster than his visor, if his continued successes are anything to go by during they bout with Cerberus. "Like the old days, Jane. The three of us against hundreds of mercs."

"And," she sends a spike from her weapon into the chest of an approaching heavy, shattering his shield and gaining a grunt of respect from the Krogan beside her, "I'm just as pissed now as I was then." She Dominates a sniper so she can swap sinks. "Full circle."

"And I still have to put up with you two and your constant yapping." Wrex huffs in mock exasperation as he shoulder charges a group of them off the docks. "Now can we get onto the ship now?" he says with a look to them just as her mate drops the very last sniper with a headshot as she peeks over her cover.

"The dock's clear," Garrus confirms and she nods, rushing ahead with her weapon raised as they approach the maintenance airlock, a steep ramp that leads up to the ship's own airlock.

Climbing quickly, they hear the swish of the airlock and, with a look over her shoulder in command, they double time it. She rounds the corner with a jerk of her weapon at the possible resistance and lowers it immediately when she sees not a mercenary, but Specialist Traynor.

"Wait… what?" The woman looks between Jane and the door, brows furrowed in confusion. "What?... You-"

"Was just here? Yeah, I get that. Where am I?"

"What?" Traynor shakes it off. "You fired me! Kicked me off the ship with barely enough time to get my toothbrush!"

Jane snorts as she motions the others to get the door, keeping her eyes on the ramp as she speaks over her shoulder. "Look. That was an imposter. Don't ask, long story."

"Wait… then how do I know-"

"Jesus fuck, Traynor-"

"It's you," she says with a nod, all argument gone from her face as she gasps. "But they're starting the engines!"

She nods and moves to her mate hacking the door controls just as it beeps loudly in protest and flash an angry scarlet, making him growl. "Damn it, they are too close to gaining flight. The security measures are locking me out."

"Is there anyone else on board?" She looks to Traynor and gets a head shake. "Dammit it. We need another way on."

"Well," The specialist starts to do some strange searching around the chamber, crouching down with a 'ah-ha'. "Here's the emergency exit hatch for evacuations." She frowns and looks up at them. "It's only meant to be unlocked from within."

Wrex grunts and goes to them, stomping a foot on it, hard enough to hear the loud back reverberate around the chamber, but the doors don't budge. "Well, I'm out of ideas."

"Thank you for that, Wrex," Garrus deadpans as he crouches down and runs his hands over the division in the hatch doors. "We may be able to get it if we had a way to harness a mass effect field that didn't include explosions."

All goes quiet as she and her mate look directly at the Specialist, specifically at the object in her hand that she's suddenly started clutching like a life vest. It takes a few tense moments of staring at her, urging her to hand it over without them having to ask, before she sighs and holds it out.

"Why, Traynor. You shouldn't have," Jane says as she flips the toothbrush in her hand and offers it to her mate.

Garrus rumbles a slight chuckle before breaking off the actual brushes, much to Traynor's shock as she gasps, her eyes widen, and mouth falls open. Once off, he tosses the useless bristles aside and pulls the plastic from the mass effect generator, activating it.

Taking the glowing tool, he runs it over the break in the plating until he stops with a hum, holding it there as he tries to wedge it between the doors. They emit a loud grinding as he gets it stuck in between the locked doors just before they instantly snap open, revealing the dark maintenance tunnel below.

"Garrus, you're a fucking genius." Jane pats him on the shoulder before hopping down into the small corridor.

He snorts and hands the now demolished toothbrush back before following her, bumping his head when he tries to lift up with a untranslated curse. Wrex, too, doesn't expect the tight quarters of the crawl-space when he headbutts one of the low hanging cross beams, emitting a near bellow of vulgarities.

She'd chuckle if not for the fact that she's not that much better off, even with her size. Smacking her head on a beam, she glares at the ceiling. "'Let's use a toothbrush to get into the maintenance system fit for keepers, everyone'. 'It'll be fun.' Fun, my ass."

"Jane. Now's not the time," Garrus whispers as the floor beneath them starts to vibrate.

There's only one answer to what the hell that is, the Normandy is on the move.

"Shit-"

"Jane."

"Right," she whispers. "Inside voices."

"This sucks," Wrex adds with his own whisper, making Garrus sigh.

They do quiet down, though, as they draw closer to the CIC. She signals the two to stop as they hear voices above them from the mercenaries. Apparently, the imposter wasn't here, but the armory, and these poor sods were left to 'slow her down'.

Shaking her head at the unfortunate end these idiots will have, she hovers her hand over the console before looking to the others. "Still got that count of kills going?"

"Until the Turian cheats." That gets Wrex a sigh from said Turian as she hits the command, the stairs flying up to the shouts of surprised mercs as the three come out firing.

The first asshole gets a spike through the face while Wrex punches another, bellowing a loud laugh as her mate fires across the room and, in an instance, causes a heavy to lose their head. Literally speaking, of course.

"I always wanted to do this!"

She raises a brow at the all too excited Krogan before ducking under a grenade. "You wanted to blow holes in my ship?"

"Got to admit," Garrus adds between fire. "It _is_ right up there with gardens and electronic shops!"

"That's it!" She charges and immediately sends a ground-shaking explosion out around her. "I'm taking you to an antique to destroy to your heart's content!"

"Only if it's classy, _honey_!"

"Would you two _shut the hell up_ before you make me sick?!"

Nodding, she mentally points out a pair of snipers watching a soldier's six and feels her mate's affirmative, senses him target and calculate trajectories in a flash of an instant. Knowing without doubt that he's ready, she charges into the soldier, distantly hearing the twin shots as she swings her shotgun across the man's face before wedging the muzzle into the soft waist of his undersuit and firing.

Before the body even falls with a heavy thump, she's turning to her squad and giving orders. "We need a thorough sweep of this ship." She runs to the elevator and runs her fingers over the layout for the decks. "If I were an imposter…"

"Let me see," Garrus says as he goes to the console within the lift and starts to tap at it. "Got it. Cargo Bay."

She lifts a brow as they climb in, asking. "How'd you do that?"

"The lift is controlled by a computer, Jane. You just check where its last command was to."

"Right. I knew that."

Wrex exhales a heavy sigh. "I miss the quiet, furtive glances in the lifts."

She snorts and rolls her eyes as the lift starts to slow, opening upon the lowest level of the ship. It's quiet, too quiet, and Jane hates that feeling of walking into a trap that lays on her skin like a clammy itch. Suddenly, the Bay fills with a slow, steady clap as a figure steps from the shadows.

"Well, well, well," the figure says, their voice that seems as familiar to Jane as her own, but is hard to place with the helmet on their head - _my_ helmet, she realizes from the silhouette. "Looks like we finally meet."

"Who the fuck are you?"

It is, in fact, her armor, she sees as the woman wearing it steps into the light. "I'm you."

Jane snorts and chuckles condescendingly, hearing Garrus growl at her back as he raises his weapon, but they're stopped as more shadows approach, weapons raised. Even with their heightened reflexes, there's no way they can get out of this as is. Not yet, anyways.

So, instead, she continues with this imposter who can't even get her own damn armor. "I'm afraid that position is taken."

"Is it?" The figure reaches for their helmet and removes it.

What's revealed is like looking into a mirror, the same features from the top of her red hair to the curvature of her jaw. _Why_ someone would want to be her, she has absolutely _zero_ ideas, but it's perhaps the best damn modification with implants she's ever seen.

"Surprised?" The imposter smirks. "You weren't the only Shepard Cerberus brought to life. I was made from you, to use as they saw fit for whatever parts they needed to make _you_."

"You're a clone," Wrex explains, as if that needed to be said from 'same DNA'.

Jane snorts. "Please, she looks nothing like me!" She looks to her mate. "Right?!"

"I had a dream of this years ago, but without the weapons aimed at our heads." He growls and looks at the clone, realization in his eyes. "It was you, wasn't it? All those news reports."

The fake Jane smirks. "Too bad you're so stupidly loyal to the _old_ model." Starting to pace before them, she nods and says, "While you are playing false prophet to the Cult of Shepard, I've been protecting people, trying to make them see truth."

"So the entire war you've been using my name for, what, glory?"

"I'd have done it sooner, but no amount of neural implants would have repaired the damage in less than the six months you played 'mother'." At Jane's scowl, the clone chuckles darkly. "Oh, I know. I've seen the vids and found your baby supplies. Had I known the father and where he is keeping them, I'd have killed him too, but I only had you and your _Turian._ "

_She doesn't know about the twins. She thinks they're human…_

**_Leave it that way. Let her think they're from a human and safe with him._ **

"Why? Why do it?" Jane narrows her eyes, trying to see through to the reasoning besides 'I want to be you'.

"You're delusional. You think that we can _fight_ the Reapers?" She turns to them from her pacing, crossing her arms. "You're getting innocent people killed because you aren't using what you know about the Reapers to see that fighting is useless. Less would die if we submit-"

"Ho-ly shit, you dumb bitch." Jane shakes her head and points an accusing finger at her. "You want to _submit_ to the Reapers?! Hello, _Saren_ , nice to fucking see you again. You look nice in my body-"

"And what have you accomplished in your efforts?" She snaps back, the two now arguing against the other.

**_Keep her talking, I have a shot at the supports for the Triton. I can drop it and buy us time to find cover._ **

"I've united a galaxy," she responds, keeping all eyes on her.

"A galaxy that, until you help them, refuses to help the war effort. A war effort that destroys any and everyone that joins with you. Tell me, do you remember those names on that list upstairs? I bet it's going to be full before you 'end this war', as you so naively believe." She shakes her head and lowers her weapon to her waist. "You use people for this war that were never meant to be on the front lines… Or do you need an example?"

"Fuck you." _Those who I lost are none of your damn business._

"How about the young Analyst _you_ sent in the highly monitored security vents while you and your _mate_ stood and sipped drinks?"

"Brooks?" That actually surprises her, up until about the time said Brooks walks towards them from the shadows with a leer on her face and armor on her person. "Just fucking great."

"What? Didn't expect to see me after leaving me to fend for myself at C-Sec with your people? It wasn't too hard to feign an injury and slip away while they left me with a medic." She chuckles without humor. "Guess it's true that you are only looking out for your own and your closest allies' survival over all else."

"You fucking bitches," she draws out, buying time her boiling anger at the deception doesn't want to wait for. "You better _hope_ Garrus gets a headshot off of you, because if I get a hold of you first, I'm going to mount that big tooth head of yours in the Normandy CIC. _Then_ I'm going to mount your," she looks to the off image of herself, "head next to hers. Oh," she chuckles darkly, "That's not the worst of it. See, after that, I'm giving your heads to all the nice Krogan missing their females."

Wrex chuckles low at that as Brooks scoffs. "And we'd be scared if someone like _Commander Shepard_ was the one making the threat, but you aren't her, are you?" She shakes her head and answers, "No. Commander Shepard wouldn't have any of the disastrous failures you have under your belt."

The clone nods with a smirk. " _I_ will guide people to a peaceful solution with the Reapers. It may cost lives, but it's better than losing them all through _your_ futile attempt at resistance."

 ** _Now, Jane. Throw her back!_** Garrus commands in her head and she blindly follows, blasting the clone from them at the same time he shoots the struts of the shuttle, dropping it down on a group of the mercenaries.

It give her and her team an opening to jump into cover just as gunfire flies over their head, embedding itself into the crates at their backs. The clone rolls out of their sights and shouts over the weapons fire.

"You think you can stop me, Shepard? You've fought against the tide for too long, you're starting to show signs of going under." A shadow moves to their right and Jane orders Garrus to toss a proximity mine, the explosive not detecting movement. "Give yourself over and I'll make it quick."

"Like hell!" She pops out of cover and fires at a incoming trooper, sending a spike through his gut as Wrex's shotgun sends another flying. "Hey, Brooks! You know you're just being used right?!"

A grenade comes flying over her cover, sending her rolling out of the way just as she hears her own voice laugh. "That won't work, but go ahead, keep trying!"

She hears the heavy stomps of feet approaching her solitary cover and grips her weapon, swinging out just as a flaming fist slams into the cargo crate where her head was. Taking the split moment to retaliate, she punches the woman wearing her face in the stomach before kicking at her leg, sending her into a roll to recover.

Jane moves to follow, to take the fight to her, when a cloaked figure runs in and slams a weapon against her face. Cursing inwardly, not at the pain that her mind is most likely blocking out but the annoyance at losing her target, she fires out into the empty space.

_Fuck. We have a cloaked hostile running around with my… me._

**_Understood._ **

She feels the bullet fly past her and hit something before she even realizes another merc was rounding on her. Nodding to Garrus in thanks, she slides back into cover and sights out for her clone again, trying to find her.

That idea goes out the window when the entire Bay bucks and throws them all sliding across the floor. Jane misses her grab at the weapons bench and skids by it as a hand reaches out and grabs her, pulling her into cover with her mate.

"What the fuck is wrong with you," she hears the clone shout and starts to rush for the noise. "I told you to get us out of the nebula and jump to FTL!"

She finds the source of the voice just on the other side of a food transport crate just as the clone shouts, "Launch the shuttle and shoot it out of the damn sky!"

"Not today, bitch," Jane growls as she rounds the crate and kicks the copy of her right in the face, hearing the crunch of bone snapping under her boot. The kick sends her skidding across the floor as the large cargo doors drop open, the second shuttle activating as a pilot must have slipped through their attention on the numbers.

_I need you to watch my back. I found her._

**_I got you. Pick her up and give me a shot._ **

_Brooks first. Find her._

He growls his affirmative in the comm as she hears Wrex attack the shuttle much like he did the last one the mercs tried to use against them. It leaves her to full attention as she turns on the clone, straddling her chest and punching her in the face with one fist, then the other.

She forgets the woman is a biotic too and it ends her perfect hold of the woman as she feels the spark of energy just before being thrown head over heels over the woman's head. That move gives her copy a chance to roll to her feet while Jane herself has to turn it into a roll to hop up.

In an instant, her clone is on her, throwing a punch that she dodges and recovers for with an elbow to the midsection. Feet lock in attempts to kick at the same time and, without any other option, Jane slams her head against the already broken nose, hearing the loud grunt of pain before she grabs the woman's arm and spins her over her hip, sliding across the floor with the ship's swaying.

The clone goes skidding across the deck towards the previously dropped shuttle, slamming against it. She is dazed, it seems, long enough for Jane to reach for her pistol and fire.

The force sends the red head's skull against the shuttle with a splash of red and Jane sees what her own body would look like in death just before she hears feet running past her and to the corpse.

The lack of visual only proves it's Brooks, but that's not what pulls Jane's attention to the corpse that looks like her. Far from it.

No. What makes her mouth fall open in shock isn't the fact that she's dead, but the fact that _she's moving_.

_Holy shit… it's Saren all over again…_

That's the best way to put how the body convulses with red energy, flesh burning away to the shock of everyone on the ship, and fear for those who weren't already veterans to the horrors of the past three years. Stumbling to its feet, the thing that was her clone throws its elongating arm at Brooks and sends her flying, hitting the wall hard enough to knock her out.

Jane fires at it over and over as it starts to approach, still twisting and changing until it's back hunches, head burns away to nothing but a fiery skull inflamed with bright red hair, flesh burns away to the bright cords of Reaper tech, and arms elongate with sharp, bladed fingers.

_Is this what I'll look like?! Is this me?!_

Sensing her lack of focus, the fear in her mind at seeing herself overcome by the horror done to a body like hers, her husband moves, calling out to her to focus as he runs. She doesn't hear him completely, but she does _feel_ him when he slams into her, tackling her and sending them both skidding just as the Reaper thing swipes at the air where she used to stand.

**_Dammit, Jane! That's not you! You're right here!_ **

Swallowing, she takes a deep breath and snaps out of it, nodding. _Right. Sorry._

 ** _Apologize later._** He rumbles roughly as he shoves his assault rifle into her hands in silent order.

She ignores cover, something that doesn't work in this situation, and starts to fire, separating herself from her mate so they can form a triangle around it, keeping it constantly changing targets. It seems to be working up until the ship throws them all, well, except for the creature that jumps, just like the Saren one, and clings to the struts above.

As the ship levels, they are all separated, she all the way against the far wall, Wrex against the functional shuttle, and Garrus furthest from them where he managed to catch himself on a crate. Only… he has no weapon.

His weapon is at her feet, his Widow having slid across the floor and most likely dropped from his hands when they were thrown off their feet. Her heart runs ice cold and begins to speed painfully as she grabs the weapon and starts to run as if in water.

Shadow falls over her mate as he reaches for a merc's fallen weapon and she calls out to him just as a metal and flesh drops from the ceiling, wrapping its hand around his neck. It yanks him from the ground with a grinding scream as it pulls back its hand, claws gleaming.

Unable to run to him, not enough time to do anything close to what she's used to, she does all she can, the only thing in her mind, she drops the assault rifle and shoulders the sniper. She knows that he feigned his missed shot on their date, knows she pulled that second shot out of her ass in the the luckiest she's ever been in her life, but she has to make this shot.

Has to be lucky at least one more time when it matters.

Taking a breath, she sights and pulls the trigger. The loud register nearly deafens her, but she _makes the shot_.

The thing drops him as it hisses, its head now half destroyed as it whips to her.

Jane doesn't know if she can make the second shot, but she has no choice but to try as she lines up at the monster starts charging, using hands and feet to gallop across the Cargo Bay. At close range, she fires again, hitting and sending the thing toppling end over end from the momentum.

She isn't sure if she hears or feels the shout come from her husband as the body of the thing slams into her sending her flying across the floor and straight for the open hangar door.

Her hands grope uselessly at the floor, ashes from the disintegrating Reaper corpse in her eyes as she struggles to see through the blur and grab onto something, _anything_.

She feels nothing but air under her legs just as her arms find purchase on the lip of the ramp and her fingers dig in, her pants fast in panic and adrenaline. Jane tries to pull up, but can't find purchase like this, can't climb with barely more than a finger hold.

Then _he_ is there, slamming down against the ramp and sliding down to grab her, Wrex in turn holding his feet and using his own weight to anchor them. Three fingered hands wrap around her arms and pull, his worried trilling in her ear as he yanks her into his arms and, just, _holds her_ with keens as he buries his face in her hair.

Wrex, for all the surly Krogan he tries to be, simply nods in all the things his eyes say and lips don't about her near death fall and helps them both to their feet. Her legs are shaky, but she manages to make it up the ramp, just as Brooks, if that's her name, begins to wake up.

Growling, Garrus looks to her for permission and she nods. Let Archangel take out his rage at almost losing her out on a woman who was as disillusioned as most who follow the Reapers without knowing. Whether or not Brooks was ever a victim of the Reapers' whispers, Jane isn't sure she wants to know, not after giving her over to the Turian that has stomped over to her.

She watches as Garrus growls and grabs the woman's throat, squeezing. Coughing, she tries to claw his hands off, any and all grogginess gone as she struggles for air, but Archangel doesn't relent, doesn't speed up his constriction nor lessen it.

It takes what seems like an agonizingly long time for the woman to finally pass out, and longer still before Archangel is satisfied with his kill to release her limp form. When he's done, he leaves her body and comes to his wife.

He doesn't speak, doesn't explain his rage even though she understands, he simply caresses her face with a purr before taking her hand. He leads her towards the lift with Wrex, only one thing left to do, get the pilot to turn this ship around and return to the docks, at gunpoint, if need be.


	35. Chapter 35

-Garrus-

The first thing he hears, even before he can open his eyes, is crying. Loud, wailing cries of pain and despair fill the otherwise deafening silence and he opens his eyes, soon groaning at what he finds.

He knows now why his wife never wakes rested, no matter how long she's slept, it's this place, this world covered in fog. It drains even him and he's only been a visitor since the Leviathan altered their minds, so he can't imagine what months upon months must feel like of this torture by perpetual nothingness that taunts your very sanity.

Standing, he brushes off his clothes and starts to follow the cries. He doesn't need his armor in this place, the metal and ceramic polymers leaving him just as defenseless as walking around in just his plates. This way, at least, he can move more freely, run for longer without the weight.

Not that he ever truly has that type of control here.

Instead of a building with high ceilings and strangely colored windows, he's found himself already walking down a white covered street, the pavement cracked and potholed enough to make him pause as he walks to keep from tripping. Around him are buildings he can't place, gone from his mind before they can take root in his thoughts, but it's just as well. None of them hold the source of his inquiry, the wails at the end of his search.

Being in this place, he is starting to understand the reason behind her constant chill, the search for heat in her waking hours. Even without the dirtied, frozen flakes of rain, he is cold, freezing even. His breath pants out in puffs of steam chilled in the dead air, drifting off to add to the ever present fog surrounding him.

The cries slowly lessen, growing from ear shattering wails to soft sobs as he approaches a building painted in colors that have long since faded and almost completely peeled away. He knows the source of the pain is near as there's only reason the beacon has dimmed, to proceed to the next act of this nightmare.

Following the sounds, he ignores the chained and barred doors of the building, its name illegible in this place's odd sort of way of masking written language. They lead him around towards the back, a small fenced in area filled with structures even he recognizes as children's playthings.

Swings and slides he recognizes like the ones from his years on the Citadel, stand abandoned and forlorn, like the bones of some unimaginable beast. The paint has chipped and been lost long ago, exposing the metal to rust and, even as nothing more than objects, they seem to speak of the pain of the object of his search.

And object which, as the fog clears enough to see, he recognizes and remembers immediately. Standing taller than himself, even hunched at its exposed back, is the thing the who who had stolen his wife's face.

Its torso is nothing but exposed wiring along its spine and filling what was once a cheat cavity. Twisted hands with long, insect-like fingers ended in the sharpest blades cover its face, hidden beneath long strands of vibrant red hair. It's all the same, though, as he doesn't need to see to know what lays beneath those hands. He doesn't think he'd ever be able to forget the twisted image of her have shattered face devoured by that very darkness they fight.

"Jane." He doesn't know if his words are spoken or shared, but it - _she -_ jerks and slowly lowers those deadly hands.

Glowing red eyes turn to him, staring out from a sick combination of love and horror, and he frowns in pain, with the knowledge that she's just as aware as he of her image.

Under that flaming locks is _her_ from crown of her head to where her cheeks are cracked and broken to reveal the infection beneath, to lead to her exposed jaw, bone white and riddled with the wiring and cords from those massive gods that traverse the fog above.

 ** _They ran from me._** He hears her not from a useless mouth, but from his mind, her sweet, beautiful voice contradictory to her visage. **_Will you run too?_**

"No," he answers without hesitation, stepping closer.

She backs from him. **_And if I hurt you?_**

"It takes a lot to hurt me, you know that."

It's clear, even without having the ability to control her features, that she it skeptical, firm in her disbelief. He can read it in the very way she doesn't respond, goes silent, as he always has been able to. They've grown too close over years that he doesn't even need this connection through their minds to see her doubt in his honesty.

He can't say he blames her. Had he been the one aware and _changed_ , he too would question his place in the lives of those he'd live and die for.

So what can he do but show her he will never let her be alone?

Closing the distance between them, he raises a hand and sees her draw back, worry rising from her form. "It's okay. You won't hurt me."

**_I won't have a choice._ **

He nods in understanding and purrs in reassurance, in _love_ , as he closes the gap between hand and lover, bondmate in any realm that may take them.

She is warm, contrary to his expectations of cold bone and steal, and hesitates only a moment before leaning into his touch. Even if a small sign of acquiescence, he smiles and takes it as all he needs to ignore that near burning in his hand that's now ignited.

Thrumming soothingly frown deep within his chest, he caresses over her face with both hands, running fingers and palms over her metal ridden features as she stares unfailingly in his eyes. His peripheral is filled with the images of his hands starting to break apart to reveal the technology beneath, replacing his natural plates and hide, but it means little to him. If anything, it makes his heart race with a sense of tranquility.

He feels her wrap her arms around him, fire engulfing him as he pulls him into her flames of destruction and rebirth. All the while, he purrs in a way that needs no words of calming reassurance and devotion until his vocals crack and break apart, coming back together as his body twists and reforms into something new.

His own limbs have grown, stretched in a way that he no longer is dwarfed by his mate, standing taller and wider as they previously had in different existences. He is built for speed now where she is power and he reminds himself of the creature that was a fooled and misguided Spectre in some wicked sort of irony, but it doesn't matter, not when he pulls back to make a promise.

_You will never be alone._

She cries at that and the sound calls him to her, to press his cracked forehead to hers as he purrs best his can with mechanical and near nonfunctional throats. His heart, if it exists, warms, and he imagines it would be beating faster and stronger, when she presses back. It's probably the only sign of love they have now, but he accepts it as what it is, a promise of unerring affection.

"Daddy? Mommy?"

Their heads whip to the voice of a child and he catches the first sight of _them_ , of the children as she sees them. And… they're beautiful.

Rumbling - if that's what it can be called- in amazement, he takes a step forward and swells in happiness when they don't run. It's all the confirmation he needs that they share his sentiment towards their mother and he turns to her, sending her the best ideas of happiness and love with a steady purr.

_You will never be alone._

* * *

 

 

She wakes before him, the feeling of her hands softly caressing his face the sensation that brings him to consciousness. When he opens his eyes, he sees a bit of that fear from their shared dream, but -and he feel triumphant in this- it is quickly fading to a calm sense of ease.

Even if it's only for a moment in time, he has done what he has always promised her. He has saved her from even herself.

"Good morning, Jane," he says with a sleepily rumble and smiles as he covers her hand on his cheek with his own.

"Morning, Garrus." Chuckling huskily from sleep, she leans close and kisses him. "Thank you. For being there."

He purrs as he presses his forehead to hers before drawing her in close to his chest to curl around her. "Anything and everything for you."

Jane makes a little happy sound as she hugs him tighter. "My sword and shield. My Archangel."

He chuckles at that and rubs her back. "So, what are your plans for today?"

" _Our_ plans."

He hums and shakes his head softly, tilting his head down to nuzzle her temple. "I don't know about you, but I'm staying right here in this bed with or without you."

She snorts against his chest. "Jackass, leaving me to the crew all by myself."

"Crew? What do they want?"

"To spend time with us, _unofficially._ "

He chuckles with a rumble of amusement. "You think they'd be tired of us."

"You'd think," she agrees with a huff of a laugh. "But I have a long list of people who want to see either me, you, or us."

Confused, he pulls back to look at her with a questioning rumble. "Me? What would they want with me?"

She snorts and playfully pushes his shoulder, explaining, "You're just as much their commanding officer as I am. And," she smiles, "you're their friend."

He smiles and nods, thinking about that. Over the years, battles, and losses they've all shared, how could they not be close enough to be family?

"I guess that means I should check my extranet messages and see who wants some alone time."

His mate chuckles as she rolls her eyes. "You're such an attention whore."

"That'd be you, my dear."

Gasping in feigned shock and hurt, she sits up and lays a hand on her chest, asking, "Garrus, did you just call me a whore?"

"Well, would you look at the time," he jokes as he sits up and scrambles out of bed in mock panic. "I should really check on the babies."

"Oh no you don't." Chuckling, she jumps up and wraps her arms around his slightly bruised neck, hanging off his cowl and over his back.

He growls playfully, the pain he knows he should feel nothing but an ache like exerted muscles, and twists at the same time he grabs her arms. Then, it's only a matter of his strength against her small size as he tosses her on the bed, taking joy in her giggles and playful expression as she quickly bounds to her feet.

"Wanna play it that way, huh?" She smirks and bounces on her feet, which is really quite entertaining when considering her state of complete undress.

He smirks and lowers his center of gravity, growling in mock threat, when he hears the soft coos of waking babies. Chuckling, he stands and looks to their crib, seeing her smile as she immediately changes from play to caring mother.

"Looks like somebodies are awake," she says as she pulls on his shirt and he goes to the crib.

They just couldn't, after so long in their presence, move the babies into a separate room. What good is a nursery when neither of them could sleep without the thought of their children in the same room? So, the second upstairs room went to his father until the time came when the older man's pride wouldn't grant him the ability to live in the home of his child.

 _Stubborn man_ , Garrus thinks as he gently picks up his daughter, cooing softly as he cradles her to his cowl and rubs her back.

Damocles, already starting to channel his mother, grips the fabric of his shirt when his mate bounces him softly on her shoulder as his mandibles quiver in the attempts to cry. Yet Jane doesn't falter, shushing his almost-cries with soft hums and rubbing his back.

"There, there… Mommy and daddy are here," she promises as she smiles to Garrus and he smiles back, stepping close to nuzzle their fussy son with a deep purr.

Tiny blue eyes stare wide-eyed at him in innocent bewilderment and he chuckles, rumbling in happiness at their combined efforts working and soothing the beast. "See? Nothing wrong, little one."

Jane huffs a warm laugh and runs a hand down Cassia's tiny back before Garrus stands, inadvertently moving the baby out of her reach. "Leave it to us to work together to calm the galaxy's biggest threat, a crying baby that will become _two_ once Cassia gets sick and tired of hearing her brother."

"Give them time and they'll be worse than the Reapers," he says with an agreeing nod.

"I don't doubt that," she says with a chuckle as she looks down to their son. "You're going to be a little terror, aren't you? You gonna do mommy and daddy proud?"

He snorts as he shakes their daughter with him to the bed, sitting. "He wouldn't be ours without causes a _few_ explosions."

"Nah… I see him as a firefight kind of kid." She smirks and bounces him gently as she joins Garrus on the bed. "So, besides the crew, do you have anything you'd like to do?"

He frowns, remembering the one thing he must do above all others. "I'd like to spread some ashes for Decian."

Her brows quirk as she sighs, then frowning. "Damn… he shouldn't have been left to fend for the Councilor alone. No one deserves that."

"Somehow, I don't see him as a 'gone peacefully in his sleep' kind of Turian." Humming, he looks at nowhere in particular, staring off into the distance. "I don't think he has anyone to spread them for him and I'd like to think I was close enough."

"Spread ashes… as in _his_ ashes?"

He looks to her and shakes his head, explaining, "Yes and no. It's more symbolic than actually 'putting them to rest' like a human ceremony. Remember when I said Turians don't think of the body the same as humans?" She nods. "We don't believe the body holds the essence of the individual anymore. When you die, you are gone, spread out among the Spirits you embody to become part of them.

"Spreading ashes is like paying tribute to the Spirits on their behalf. We once used to think of it as 'buying favor' for them with the Spirits in order to grant them the honor, but not only a few still look at it that way.". He shrugs, adding with a hum. "He believed in Spirits, so I think it's only right to fall back on tradition, even if I don't believe."

She smiles and nods, asking, "Want me to go?"

"Of course. I'd like that." He purrs in thanks and nuzzles her temple with his mouth plates.

"Your tradition reminds me of an old human one," she says as she leans into him, their babies' eyes drooping as they still. "We used to believe there was a realm of existence that you went to when you were dead. There was a river between the, sort of, 'entrance' and the actual realm, the river Styx. In order to get across, you needed to pay the ferryman, Charon, two coins." Looking up to him, she points to her eyes. "The living would lay two coins on the eyes of the dead to pay Charon."

"Charon. That's the name you gave the Relay in your system, isn't it?"

"Yep. 'Our pathway to a new world', I believe we liked to say for its name." She chuckles and shakes her head. "And to think we were thinking so simplistically less than a century ago."

He joins her with a rumbling chuckle of his own. "And now look at your species, the vanguard of this war against the Reapers."

"We aren't alone," she reminds with a smile and he nods. "I actually - and I'll probably be lynched for this - think we needed the First Contact War." He lifts a doubtful brow plate and she nods, explaining, "We thought we were the strongest thing in the galaxy because we found the Mars Archives. If anything about humans is indicative, we'd have thought we were top species in the galaxy, and be ready to prove it."

"So it's true that humans expected aliens to be hostile."

She nods, saying, "Shoot first, think never with us humans. We needed to be shown we couldn't blow into the galaxy and expect to be able to fight anything that came our way. Did it suck that it had to take actual lives to learn that? Fuck yes, but it'd have cost a hell of a lot more if we shot on an alien ship without provocation. Just look at the Yahg." She snorts. "Though maybe they have it made since the Reapers aren't attacking them."

Laughing, he kisses her temple and stands. "Come on, Jane. We should feed the little ones before they actually call for it and deafen the entire apartment complex."

Snorting softly, she follows him as he quietly makes his way downstairs, only to find his father already awake. Garrus' questioning rumble must be loud enough to hear, as the older Vakarian looks up from the table they once used to debrief before hitting the casino that now, like a normal dining table, has chairs.

He nods in greeting, the young two sharing the motion as Jane heads to the fridge for food. "I hope you don't mind me ordering breakfast for the four of us," he says with a motion to the fridge. "Afraid all you have here is baby food and a half eaten pizza, whatever that is."

Garrus chuckles at that at and nods, sitting down to the sound of his wife cooing as she starts the food heater. "We haven't really had a chance to or thought we'd be around here long enough to need food."

"Which reminds me," Jane says from her corner of the kitchen as he clicks at their daughter, making her flick her mandibles with each loving tick of his vocals. "You and Sol should stay here when Garrus and I are deployed. There's no use on this place going to waste." His father moves to speak, but she interrupts - he's never seen anyone but his mother do it and get away with it - as she continues. "And I won't take no for an answer. You think you're doing wrong by the refugees by living somewhere nice? Then bring some here if it makes you feel better."

"Just leave the master bed and bath alone," Garrus jokes with a chuckle before going back to playing with their daughter with his mandibles against her cheeks.

"I…" His father stops and hums in thought. _So it really_ _ **did**_ _get past his stubbornness… and he actually listened to her even when she interrupted him._

Titus Vakarian, ever the proud Turian, takes almost too long to decide for the impatient human woman, but, finally, he agrees. "Thank you both. I still don't believe we should have a place like this to stay, let alone it belonging to my son and his mate, but I will not insult you by refusing."

They both smile, Jane coming to the table to hand over one of the tiny jars off baby food before taking her own seat. "Good. That's settled." His wife looks to their son as she offers a finger of food. "Isn't it, Damocles? Yep, I agree."

Titus chuckles as Garrus, not trusting a tiny baby with his talons in their mouth, scoops up a nice portion of the paste and brings it to Cassia's mouth. He rumbles as smiles as she chirps and devours it greedily, making more of it leak out of her mouth than go down her throat.

Even covered in food, it's one of the best images as he uses the spoon to collect the food and reoffer it. "You have to eat it, not wear it, Cassia."

"Where's the fun in that?" Jane asks for her with a gentle nudge of his foot under the table.

His father watches them, rumbling in thought. "Their names are very old and singular. I've always been curious why you chose them over more common ones."

"Why go for common when they are one of a kind, themselves?" Garrus smiles at her explanation, looking to her and rumbling in agreement.

His father chuckles and nods, responding, "True enough. You know, Garrus' name is, admittedly, completely on accident."

Rumbling in confusion, he looks to his father as Jane raises a brow in intrigue. His dad merely nods as he explains, "There was a General Gauis Varian in the Unification War. One of the greatest."

Garrus purrs and nods, knowing the war story well, as he looks to his mate to explain. "He only had five hundred men on a colony that was supposed to be a neutral ground. They were there in passing, refueling their ship before rejoining with the Hierarchy ships in the neighboring region of space.

"Turns out that there was a large force of separatists on the colony, practically holding it hostage," he says as he sets aside the empty container of food to rub their daughters back, helping it go down. "He knew they were no match, but he and his men formed a garrison before the colony's capital."

"They held against an army ten times their size long enough for Hierarchy reinforcements to arrive, at the cost of their lives," his father adds. "That was before we had FTL like we do now. It took at least a week for the Hierarchy to arrive to aid the colony."

"What I want to know is what that has to do with me, dad." He rumbles in question as Jane nods, smiling in anticipation for the answer.

"Your aunt used to enjoy tracking family lineage, you know," his father vaguely explains. "She could trace Vakarian all the way to a time _before_ we actually were given the name we have now. Our surname before? Varian."

Garrus trills in stunned surprise, head jerking slightly at that shock. "Varian? As in _the_ Varian?" He father nods and he trills a bit higher.

"Holy hell. That's fucking awesome," Jane says with a grin, probably as big as it is thanks to seeing her husband so stunned.

"Your mother was thrilled to hear that when she was pregnant with you and… Wanted to name you after him because you were meant for greatness." He chuckles and flicks his mandibles in, could he be seeing it right, embarrassment? "I am afraid that not happening was entirely my fault.

"See, Jane, in Palaven Standard, which comes from Cipritine where he was born, the two names are almost written exactly the same save for a small difference. I… may have made a mistake in my excitement and given our son a name entirely his own."

She breaks into a grin as Garrus stares at his dad in stunned realization. He wasn't just the only one in instruction named 'Garrus', he was the _only one_ named that in all of the Turian people. _So much for ever trying to use the excuse of 'no, I'm the_ _ **other**_ _Garrus.'_

Jane laughs as she smiles at him and he can't help it, not with her jovial mood being so contagious, when he finds himself laughing with her. To think, his name is what it his thanks to a tiny little mistake on his birth and identification paperwork.

When he collects himself, he grins in suddenly realization. "Wait. You, the one who always filled out forms multiple times for a single case, _messed up on my paperwork_?"

His dad groans, which only gets them laughing harder.


	36. Chapter 36

-Garrus-

His father and sister don't need to be asked to watch their twins in order to take some time to themselves, his family jumping at the opportunity to be with the babies as much as he and Jane jump at the chance at not having bullets flying at them at any given moment. With the time that gives them, he takes Jane to a small Turian imports market, destined for the spiritual aids and supplies shop.

In it, they find what they're looking for, a small pouch of ashes, made from trees and herbs mostly. Scenting it, he recognizes the smell as something he had once hinted in his mother's urn. Apparently it wasn't just her that had smelled fragrant, but an addition to her ashes that must be some sort of tradition.

Thinking back to her makes him keen in the store, eyes shut as he bows his head. His mother, the first woman he ever loved, was spread in the warm air of Palaven only months ago.

"Hey." Jane is there, softly soothing him with her sweet voice and gentle touch. "It's okay. It's going to be okay."

"This," he hands over the pouch, "they put this in my mother's urn. I never noticed that until I smell it here."

She frowns and gently grips the pouch, taking his hand. "I'm sorry she's not here, Garrus. I know you love her."

He sighs and caresses her cheek. "In a way, I'm glad that she went as she did, when she did. It would've broken mom's heart seeing Palaven like it is." Smiling sadly, the pain still new, he nudges her head with his and changes subjects. "Come on. I'm sure the crew can't wait to see us."

Jane smiles softly and nods, squeezing his hand. "I'm always here for you if you need to vent. Whether that be talking, fucking, or beating the out of each other or something else."

He chuckles and smiles warmly. "Thanks, Jane."

"Love you."

"I love you too."

Giving her forehead a gentle nudge, he takes the ashes and gives them the firm squeeze before heading to the clerk to purchase them. The clerk, thankfully, doesn't ask and Garrus knows the man has probably seen plenty of lost souls come in here looking to send off their loved ones in any way they can, the bodies gone and most likely unrecoverable in this war.

Now, finding a place to spread the ashes was the more difficult task. With parts of the Citadel closed or cordoned off thanks to the Cerberus coup, there wasn't many choices. That's not to say Garrus had any idea what patch of artificial land even embodied his friend more than the others anyways.

Decian Chellick wasn't a man he often saw away from his work, away from the needs of the people, in order to enjoy the simpler things in life. Though, he supposes, there were probably many things he just didn't know about the man much like there were things he didn't know about the younger turian that was once his partner.

Sitting in the skycar as they drive, Garrus has nothing else for ideas but to think back to their time working together. That's when he gets an idea and sets course.

"Thought of somewhere?"

He nods to his mate's question and explains, "Usually, we go where we feel the deceased is most embodied. I never knew Chellick to be anything but a C-Sec officer, so dedicated to his job that it was all he practically lived for." As they draw closer to the Presidium, he rumbles softly and lowers his voice. "It may not be traditional, but I think he should be at C-Sec. Even if we do it outside of the Academy-"

"It'll still be like asking the Spirits to watch over it," she says, looking to him for correction.

"Pretty much, yeah." As they arrive outside the barely holding together Academy, they find themselves alone save some Keepers and handful of surveyors taking in the damage. "I think here is a good spot."

They step out of the skycar, the pouch of fragrant ashes clutched tightly in his hand, and take hands as they walk over the bits of debris from Cerberus' attack, looking for

the perfect spot to pay respects to the Spirits on Decian's behalf. Garrus hopes that, as a man that only knows the traditions from his time around his mother, his efforts would aid his friend in whatever may be after life.

Stepping over a falling railing barricading a small planter before the Academy, he stops and looks around, scanning the area to determine if this is _the_ spot to send his friend off. He looks to Jane for her silent opinion and sees as she looks around herself before nodding. Yes, this is the perfect place to see to the Spirits taking Decian Chellick into their essence, just before C-Sec and overlooking the Presidium to embody his best attributes in life.

Taking a deep breath, he opens the pouch and motions her to hold out her hand, it only right that the both of them do this after everything Decian had done for them in their lives. She doesn't flinch as he does, unhesitatingly holding out her hand and cupping it as he pours half of the pouch into her palm. He puts the rest in his own hand before pocketing the empty pouch to lay at the memorial down in the refugee camp later.

"How do we do this?"

Rumbling, he looks to her and opens his hand, blowing in the stead of natural wind to send the tribute into a flurry over and off his palm. She smiles sadly at the thought of what they're actually doing, of the meaning behind this, but follows in the action, blowing steadily to send the ash in her hand floating into the air.

"Goodbye old friend," he says as he looks up into the artificial sky.

"Save us a seat at the bar."

"Bar?" Raising a brow, he looks to her with a rumbling question.

She shrugs and looks up at the 'sky' too. "I like to imagine that there could be an afterlife… with a bar."

He chuckles as he looks up, watching the virtual clouds drift. "Then, in that case, I'm buying the first round when we get there."

* * *

They split up shortly after that to see to their own calls from the crew – with promise to have a 'date' of their own in the night at the Casino, no plans, just letting the night take them where it leads while his father and sister have their bonding chances with the babies.

She had promised Kolyat to come check up on Thane's condition, the older Drell's fight with, as they later discovered, the man named Kai Leng, Cerberus' apparent assassin not bought through Jane's work against the Collectors. From what they had heard, the exertion caused some major damage to Thane's already weak lungs, but he was, much to his ire, currently being administered oxygen to help with his condition and stable otherwise.

After that, he hears that she has a date with Liara to speak of some sort of memory bank for the next cycle. He doesn't want to get started on how much he _despises_ that the woman is still so focused on the war effort that she's dragging Jane in, but he figures that has everything to do with Liara's place in the galaxy as Shadow Broker. New information discovery and change never ceases, so why should the Broker?

Jane also had a demand from Jack to come fight at the Arena, which was actually good to see considering the two were almost, dare he say it, sisters? They certainly were too much alike not to be considered at least very _good_ friends, so a tournament of blowing things up, which he knows will happen with those two around, sounds perfect for them to catch up in a way that doesn't involve work for either.

There was then 'shopping' with EDI, whatever that meant, a questionable movie shoot for Blasto with Javik, her first viewing of Fleet and Flotilla with Tali and Ilden – which is a task he wouldn't think they'd be up to considering her view of that ridiculously sappy movie – and ladies' night with Miranda.

His first take, however, was to head down to the docks where the refugees have a memorial wall for those lost or missing in the war. He can think of no other place to lay the now-empty pouch from the ashes in place of any kind of memorial for a man that is solely responsible for ensuring the Salarian Councilor survived long enough for reinforcements.

Heading down to the memorial wall, he sees someone he hadn't expected, her arm in a sling as she stands with another woman. From here, even Garrus can see the similarities between the two and, with the knowledge from the first posting on the Normandy that the woman never attempted to keep quiet for a turian's hearing, it's easy to see the two are sisters.

Even though seeing Ashley Williams wasn't really anywhere near the top of his list of things he ever wanted to do, he has no choice but to approach where they stand so he can lay down the pouch. He _hopes_ that this won't become an episode of 'Shepard is a traitor and I don't like her even though you defend her', he is ready for anything.

He gives the woman credit, she waits until her sister leaves before throwing him a scowl and storming towards him. Biting back his growl, he turns and waits to see what the fellow Spectre will do before he reacts appropriately. Let it never be said that he was irrational when around their former squadmates.

"You have some balls showing your face here," she spits and he narrows his eyes.

"Why," he demands, standing tall. "Because I've never lost someone in this war?"

"You shot me, you fucking skull-faced bastard."

He growls and fights the temptation to stick his thumb into her wound, knowing _exactly_ where his bullet hit and lies beneath the bandages. "You had a gun pointed at my mate and you were going to get the Council killed if Udina was allowed to open that door. You and I both know that I did what I had to in the moment because _you_ wouldn't see reason."

"That's a load of bullshit. Shepard always knew how to talk people down."

"Does she? Did that work on Horizon with you?"

Ashley blinks and gapes a moment before shaking it off. "That doesn't count, she was with Cerberus then."

"And you believed she was with them this time too. Face it, Williams, you were wrong and we did what we had to to make sure the Council didn't all die." He steps away from her. "You questioned her on Mars when all you had to do was listen to logic, you failed to see that she wasn't against you when even Kaidan realized she was doing what she had to, and you were shot because you'd rather argue her loyalties than trust in your instincts."

"And what about what Kaidan saw? What were you up to then?" She crosses her good arm around her waist, narrowing her eyes.

Opening his tool, he accesses a vid from his visor recordings and says, "It's probably easier to show you than explain it." He plays the video of the clone's speech, watching Ashley's eyes widen and brows frown in patterns of shock and confusion. "Yes, that's a clone made by Cerberus when they were rebuilding Jane. It was… indoctrinated. Just like Saren was. We have a suspicion that it was going around as Commander Shepard when we were fighting for this war, trying to undermine her for when it tried to take the Normandy.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me for shooting you, just to understand why I did it and to, hopefully, accept that Jane _isn't_ as you think." He sighs and closes his Tool. "We've all done what has to be done, break rules, and make enemies, but she needs people who trust in her, people she once trusted with her life. Can you put aside the past, the differences, and see Jane for who she is _now_ , not before?"

"Are you kidding? I can't just forget-"

"Dammit, Williams. Stop being an idiot and see the big picture," he growls and points at the refugees all around them. "People are learning to put aside grudges and differences to fight. I'm not asking you to become like a sister to her, I'm asking you to trust her like soldiers. If krogan and turians but aside hundreds of years of hate, you can open your damn eyes and see you're on the losing side of this conversation."

He doesn't bother staying to hear any more of what she has to say, turning and leaving her to think about his words, about what this war should really be, joining together instead of willingly breaking apart. If left to her own devices, the confusion and feeling of betrayal would fester into hate and he just can't let that happen, not without stepping in and explaining their side.

Sighing, he opens his Omni-Tool and messages his wife, at least owing her a heads up should she and the other Spectre come in contact later while he isn't around. 'Jane, I spoke to Ashley in the Camp. I may or may not have made things better between you two.'

_'What'd you say?'_

'Might have yelled at her for being an idiot and explained the clone.'

_'Bet that went over well… Anyways, thanks for trying. She will either still hate me or give me a chance to regain her confident.'_

Rumbling sadly, he nods even if she can't see it and changes subject. 'How is Thane?'

_'Eh… good and not good. It looks like his condition is finally catching up with him. He's on an oxygen tank.'_

"Damn," he says aloud and types quickly. 'I have a thought. Can he walk?'

_'Yeah. Hell, they're having a hard time keeping him from overexerting himself again.'_

'We should bring all the crew together, have one huge party before we all throw everything to the wind and spread out across the galaxy to fight this damn war.'

There's a long pause before, ' _That's a fucking idea I can get behind! Definitely! Tonight?'_

'So long as it's after our own date, I don't see why not. Let everyone you see know and I'll do the same.'

' _Sounds good. We can always message the others and get them off their asses to par-tay! Until then._ '

He chuckles and closes his Tool, heading towards the turian refugee camp central hub with intent to look in on the situation, see if there's any need for his assistance. Walking up on the camp, he sees more Blue Suns armor that he'd expect and, even though he knows their leader, he can't help how his plates heat up in building adrenaline, ready for them to pounce at a moment's notice.

"Greetings, Garrus," Arcanus says as Garrus enters a medical sector of the Camp. "I had not expected you to be spending your shore leave here."

"I can say the same about you."

He chuckles and nods, motioning to follow as he starts to walk from where his men carry supplies into the make-shift hospital. "My work is never done, it seems. I have been coordinating supply chains between the camps and my men. Before you remark, yes, the Blue Suns do not naturally work without financial benefit, but we are not against aiding the weak." He looks over with a soft twinkle of golden rings. "I must admit it is partially you and your mate's doing."

"How so?"

"You have made me realize that it does not matter if my organization survives if there is no one left at the end of this war to hire us." The older man actually smirks at that before saying, "I actually believe that my time with you both has made me realize that I cannot gain by thinking of myself all the time.

"It is also why I must make an unfortunate decision," Reguix adds as he stops and turns fully to the younger man, hands at his back. "I will not be joining the Normandy when you disembark."

"What?" Garrus growls. "You're backing out on our deal?"

"Quite the contrary." He rumbles in thought before golden eyes meet silvery blue. "I feel you and Shepard are quite capable of accomplishing what needs to be done without me. I, however, must be with my men as I fear it will not be long before the Reapers take notice of the Citadel. Much like with Sovereign, I feel the station calls to them."

"You can't hold against them, Arcanus."

"Perhaps not, but we can make it difficult for them. They will not take the station without a fight and I want to be here with my men for that fight."

Garrus can understand the desire to fight with your own, to hold the line against the inevitable even when every instinct says not to. He simply nods with an understanding rumble, soon huffing a half-laugh. "And you left me with telling her. Thanks for that."

"I can tell her myself, but I thought it only courteous to say it in person than in message. That feels too impersonal after the battles we have faced."

He chuckles and nods, smiling with a rumble. "I still think you should tell her. Here," he opens his Tool and sends the location of their apartment, "We're having a party tonight with the entire crew. I know Jane would like to see you there and so would I, especially given that _you're_ going to be the one to tell her about your leaving."

That actually surprises the man, making him look between his tool and Garrus before his shoulders relax and he hums softly. "I will be sure to find myself time to visit. After drawing fire together, it seems a fitting parting."

"Until then, Arcanus," he says in leaving as he heads deeper into the camp, seeing two men he knew would be down here, Vega and Cortez, playing with some of the refugees down here on the docks for scraps of chits.

James hisses as he watches one of the batarian players lay down a winning hand and collects up the winnings with a grin. Steve chuckles as he looks up and sees Garrus approaching, holding up a hand in greeting.

"Well, hey," Jimmy turns and grins. "Come to play a hand, Scars?"

"And end up like you two, barely hanging onto your clothes?" He snorts and shakes his head. "I was actually curious if you'd be up to watching the clawball game."

The large human shrugs with a smirk. "I like the beauties in the bioto-ball games better… less weird plates and questions about who's female and who's male."

"Ignoring that-"

The table laughs as the two men shake their hands off and stand. "Lead the way, Scars. That pad of yours got food?"

"Not really."

"We can always order delivery?" Steve offers, but James shakes his head.

"Nah. We need _real_ game food, you know? Let's head to the Silver-Blood Market for some munchies!"

They walk to a transport terminal and, with James' command, climb into a cab heading for the closest market to the apartment. With hopes, Garrus can manages to get some _real_ food for the apartment and not just junk that will be eaten by the one child-like human in their group.

The cab of the car is small with a large human and turian clad in full armor in the seats, but Cortez doesn't seem to mind the limited view as he drives just as calmly as he does the shuttle for the Normandy. He has to give it to the man, he knows his job and he does it well.

"So, Scars. I see you and Lola are apart today-"

"Probably because they'd like to see the crew off the ship," Steve supplies. "I think it's good to get a chance to relax and see you both as people instead of just commanding officers."

"Actually, about that," Garrus adds with a rumbling chuckle. "Jane and I think it'd be nice if everyone got together tonight to… well, have a party. We know that's not really the best thing during a war but-"

"But even the biggest baddest badasses deserve a break, no?" Jimmy interrupts with a smirk and nods. "No way am I missing out on that."

"I hope you and Shepard are at least getting some time to yourselves?" Cortez frowns in worry in the mirror and Garrus nods from the back seat.

"She and I have a 'date' tonight. I'm thinking of something to surprise her."

James snaps his fingers and spins in the seat, grinning. "Dance, Scars. Get her to dance."

"I want to have a _good_ date, Jimmy," he deadpans and Steve chuckles.

Vega snorts and rolls his eyes, "We'd _teach_ you. Esteban here knows some dances."

"I remember you, too, know some things," Cortez returns with a smirk as James glares at him.

"Oh? I sense an embarrassing story." Garrus chuckles and nudges the back of Vega's seat. "Spill it. I won't go along with this plan without it."

"When I was a kid, my tia put me into dance – Don't laugh!"

Garrus and the pilot both chuckle, but at the idea of a little James dancing, but at the fact that he's just so embarrassed by it. Just being told not to laugh before even thinking it gets them bursting into laughter as the man turns a dark red and begins to pout.

Composing himself enough to rumble good-naturedly, Garrus smiles and nods. "I'd appreciate the help if you both are still up to it. I even promise to buy you drinks for the game."

"Now you're talking, Scars."

* * *

It worked. It actually _worked_.

Not only did he manage to remember the moves and to even guide her, but she actually got into it too. It only took her a few protests and jerky moves before she was smirking and grinding, sliding her legs along his and making it all too tight in his pants to think of anything but the way her beautiful body looked in yet another new dress – which he's sure is thanks to EDI and her 'shopping trip'.

They don't even make it to the apartment in time, their hands all over the other as he throws her leg over his hip and carries her with hands full of her round rear. Into the apartment they stumble, tongues fighting, and they don't even try to make it upstairs, instead heading straight to the couches before the artificial fire.

Dress it hiked up and pants pushed over his hips and he's inside of her, delving into the slick, tight heat he craves every moment of everyday. They both moan wantonly, but he doesn't rest, begins to move immediately in an all too similar movements from their teasing dance in the Casino.

One of her legs slides over his hip to draw him closer as he grabs her other over his forearm, spreading her open with a growl as he moves faster, never faltering. Hips slam against the other with slick suction of her walls around him, their scent sure to soak into the cushions for anyone sensitive enough to smell them.

She moans loud as he bows his back to thrust against her upper wall, growling as each thrust causes her to clench. Soon, it's too much and he's too close, reaching down to her clit to rub circles as he practically vibrates from the heat building in his belly, at the new feeling he has building in his groin that he's only had chance to feel a few times so far.

She cries out as she arches and bucks, walls spasming and begging. How can he deny her?

He growls low and feral as he curls over her, feeling his base swelling with blood as he pulses, filling her until her walls will not give and locking the together. The sensation knocks the air from his lungs with a grunt, the feeling so intense he can't hold the second orgasm back and he caresses her nub longer to keep her up, to repay her for the pleasure.

They finally come down to pants and weak kisses, their hips still joined as he caresses her cheeks and neck. Soon she's chuckling weakly as she smirks up at him, lifting a brow as she asks, "What the hell was that? Where did you learn to tango?"

"I'll never tell," he responds with a purr as he licks the dew of sweat on her temple. "I have to have some secrets, you know."

"Well, it was a fucking amazing one." She smiles and kisses him properly before pressing her forehead to his. "That was a great 'first date', _Archangel._ " He flicks his mandible in playful exasperation as he watches her smile turn into a sly smirk. "I have something for when we part."

"What's that?"

"I have to have some secrets, you know. Let's just hope you get to see it before the crew shows up in an hour and a half," she whispers with a quirk of her brows.

When they finally do part with forty-five minutes to spare for preparing and cleaning up, they head upstairs to first bathe and get into something more comfortable than a suit and dress. As they are undressing, he notices she won't turn her back to him and it starts to pique his curiosity.

"Okay, I have to know… What's with your back?" Rumbling, he stops her as her dress falls to the ground and gently turns her to look at her back. He trills when he finds a large bandage there. "What happened? Did you get hurt?"

"Whoa. Easy." She turns to face him and smiles reassuringly, taking his hands. "No, I'm not hurt. This is… well. I got a tattoo thanks to Jack." Frowning at the thought, she squeezes his hands. "She's afraid of losing people and I know it will make her feel better if there's something out there to 'help pick me out of the rubble', as she is worried about. And, for me, this means something so much more." Jane smiles up at his questioning rumble. "Want to see it?"

"Of course."

She lets him go and turns to face the wall. "Peel it off? Then we can slather some medigel on it, help it heal."

What he reveals, he had never expected and it sends him a step back in shock as his eyes take it all in.

Spanning across her back, with wings that open out over her shoulders and upper arms to spread with the movements of her arms, is _him_. And not just any image of himself, but of _Archangel_. His image has head turned to reveal his scars, his wings spread, and wears his batter, old Archangel armor with arms outstretched to his side, palm up. In each hand is a bright star, light flaring out and up his arms without setting him aflame from their fire.

"It's…" He begins, not needing explanation of what it is, of what it means.

 _'My Archangel'_ she always calls him, and the lights in his hands? Twin stars? Even without the knowledge of human tattoos, he understands the symbolism.

"Jane. It's beautiful. _You're_ beautiful."

She smiles over her shoulder, saying, "I have always had an Archangel watching my back, now I just have it so everyone else knows."


	37. Chapter 37

-Jane-

That night started as soon as they were dressed and heading downstairs, the bell already ringing loud with their rowdy crew ready and able to party like it was the end of the universe. They managed to collect the babies from a confused Titus and Solana, the two unsuspecting attendees to this thrown together at the last minute party by proxy whether they liked it or not, and head to the door.

"Hey, Lola! Don't tell me the little niños are here," James says with a disappointed sigh as he walks past them both with a beer crate in his hands. "Nothing like little ones to cramp my _style_."

Cortez follows him in, stopping to give their daughter in Garrus' arms a gentle rub on the back before carrying in a bag of snacks and quick party decorations. "I'm not sure anyone is ready to see that."

Jane and her mate chuckle as they nod in agreement, getting a stunned gasp of mock insult from the man as he and their shuttle pilot start to set out the sparse decorations of 'Blasto and the Evil Twin, Disastro.' It wasn't lost on her the irony of that and she quickly narrows her eyes at her chuckling husband to 'shut the hell up' before saying - _innocently_ , "So… Blasto, huh?"

The two men snicker as EDI and Joker choose that moment to enter behind them, standing close enough to leave _no_ question as to how the AI's long talks of love and sacrifice have been considered and taken. "Hey, Blasto fighting his evil twin? Wonder what that reminds me of," Joker says with a smirk as Jane turns her glare on him.

"I'm surrounded by comedians," she deadpans and looks at her son. "You're on my side, aren't you?"

He simply rumbles a sleepy purr and yawns, mandibles flaring and tongue poking out to curl, before nuzzling against her, but she takes that as a 'yes'. Chuckling, she looks to Garrus and motions upstairs in silent question of if now's a good enough time as any to put the babes to sleep. He agrees with a nod and rumble, so she leads the way up the stairs and into the Master bedroom.

She doesn't know if the doors will keep the noise out, but their babies are pretty oblivious to sound on good days, so, with hopes, they won't be too bothered tonight. Just in case, though, she reminds herself to get a pair of food ready and waiting for the heater and a set of clean clothes and diapers on the bed.

Right now, though, she's fine just spending time with her son, forehead to his as she swivels softly on her feet, rocking him with long caresses over his head to soothe him to sleep. When his eyes slowly start to close, she chuckles and looks to her mate with a smirk. "He falls asleep just like you."

"How's that?"

"If I caress your heads, along your fringe, and you both pass out like a light." He flicks his mandible in denial, but she knows what she's talking about, has seen it all too many times to know the truth. "Come on, you liar, let's get the kids down for bed and head downstairs before they tear up our apartment or cover it with garish Blasto decorations."

"I like them. Gives the place that 'lived in' look."

She snorts as she gently lays the sleeping baby in their shared crib, the two taking solace in their twin sleeping within reach. "I'd think us fucking everywhere would do it, but if you'd rather-"

"Now, now, no one said anything about _that_ ," he says with a rumbling purr as he nips her cheek in scolding and sets their daughter into the crib, the twins immediately curling up against the other. The two mates bask in their small family, separate from the universe, before he thrums and presses his forehead to her temple. "We should head downstairs and start this party. It would be impolite considering this was our idea, after all."

She chuckles and nods in agreement, taking his hand as they close the door and head downstairs. New arrivals to the crew have included most of the rest of their guest list and even Glyph hovers to them with a – _is that really_ – a holographic bowtie?

" _Greetings, Commander and Praetor. May I be of assistance with the necessary music to set the mood for the festivities?"_

Garrus chuckles at her side and motions with a chin that he'll go greet the newest arrivals, leaving her to figure out what kind of 'mood' this party is supposed to have. _Mood? Parties have moods? And here I thought it was just throw some music on and drink to your heart's content…_

"Ouh," a voice at her side without a source, immediately announcing their only unseen guest, hums. "Music. Too bad you only know old stuff, Shep."

"Then you have at it, Kasumi," she retorts, looking to the voice at her right. "And, for god's sake, at least show yourself _once_ tonight."

She just _knows_ the woman is pouting, but lets her as she heads to greet the last of the guests coming in. Suspecting some not to show, she is both surprised and happy to see Thane walking in with help from his son. Sure, he's in bad shape and needs the help of an oxygen tank, but the smile quirking his lips makes all the difference in the galaxy. He _wants_ to be here and, if this is the last time they may all see each other, she doesn't blame him.

"Thane," she says as she goes to him, taking his hand in a good shake. "It's good to see you up and about."

"Much to the displeasure of his doctors," Kolyat reminds with a pointed look that his father blatantly ignores before countering.

"I've already passed my predicted estimate of life, so I will not let a bit of a," he coughs a wet sound, "cough get in the way of celebrating with my good friends."

Nodding in agreement, Jane offers a hand towards the couches. "Make yourselves at home. It looks like someone brought plenty of food and drinks. I'm going to head to the others and see if we can get this party started."

They nod in okay and she takes to the others, smiling at some of of the surprise guests she hadn't expected to take her up on the offer. Among them, are Poe, McKnight, Donnelly and Daniels with Adams, Traynor, and even the two resident doctors. Sure, she doesn't expect them all to stay all night, Chakwas and Michel most likely stopping by for a few nonalcoholic drinks before speeding off to assist in the Citadel's hospitals, but even a short visit is still some bit of relaxation over none.

Just as she thinks the party is about to get started, she hears the bell chime and raises a brow at her mate in silent question. He, too, seems just as confused by the apparent visitors, the fact that they haven't even _started_ reason to not expect any complaints just yet, and she heads to the door to see who the hell it is. _Leave it to me to have someone out there suddenly sense a party and expect to be let in._

What- or more importantly, _who_ \- shocks her even more than if the Reapers were to suddenly, as Joker put it, 'learn the value of love and surrender'. Instead of someone here to complain, though that still remains to be seen, are the only people from her past crew she _hadn't_ shared such a friendly report with, Kaidan Alenko and Ashley Williams.

"Shit," she curses softly as she opens the door and steps out, hoping her mate didn't just see who was here. Last thing she needs is him opening fire again even _if_ the situation may end up calling for it. "Williams, Alenko."

"Hey, Shepard," Alenko greets with an unsteady smile, rubbing his injured shoulder. _Garrus is good, got them both is the exactly same spot._ "We just wanted to talk about what happened with the Council, clear the air."

"I talked to Garrus," Ashley starts, scowling a bit as the fist on her bad arm clenches. "I still don't see the need to shoot us like he did, but I don't question _you_ on shooting Udina anymore. Udina was a fucking bastard, undermining humanity like he did by working with Cerberus." She sighs and looks up into the green eyes of her former Commander. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to trust you about Cerberus. I guess I just never got offer the fact that you came back and I was looking for an excuse to still hate you for dying."

Jane chuckles with little humor and crosses her arms. "I'll try to remember not to do that anymore."

"It's not just that, Shepard," Kaidan tries to soothe. "You can't expect us to have known about all what happened to you those six months. And with the Councilors? We were just going off what we saw. And then the confusion over when I thought I saw you?" He huffs a weak laugh and rubs his neck. "I mean, a _clone_? Even you can't say you expected that."

"What I expected was my crew, the ones who went through Virmire with the rest of us. You know, the planet we could have all been nuked on?" They flinch slightly at that and she sighs, relaxing. "Look, I need to know if this is ever going to turn into a pissing contest again. If it is, I won't reign in my or Garrus' anger. With the galaxy probably ending, I'm tired of the bullshit."

They look to the other, a silent conversation going between them before Alenko looks back with a nod. "I'm sorry, Shepard."

Jane nods in understanding before looking to Williams, expecting a fight that, unbelievably, she doesn't get. Instead of the usual bickering that seems to mark their relationship, the woman says, "Okay, Shepard. No more questioning unless it's legitimate and constructive. And… I'm sorry about not believing you after all the hell we've been through. Soldiers are like family and I forgot that."

Life too short to hold onto grudges, Jane nods and quirks a lip as she turns and presses the access to the apartment. "Then, I say you join the rest of us in living like we could all die tomorrow."

Ashley blinks in shock, but Kaidan warms up to it, nodding as he nudges her to join. Jane follows, smiling at her mate's questioning look, letting him know it's okay, that the tension is released between the three. He takes it for what it is, a tenuous agreement to put the past aside, and comes to her, offering a glass of something red and blue and a small platter of sushi, the set of chopsticks for her and a turian version for him meaning they'll share.

"I see you're making friends," he rumbles with a smirk. "And here I'm the one mingling."

She snorts and takes a drink, humming at the alcoholic taste that is subdued by whatever else is mixed in. "What is this?" Holding it up to the light, she watches the colors swirl.

Shrugging, he motions to Samantha set up at the bar. "She calls it Morality, a mix between two other drinks she's made. You should ask her for a Heat Sink."

His smirk tells her all she needs to know about that drink choice and she snorts. "You just want me on the floor."

"Not my fault you can't hold your drinks." He chuckles and kisses her temple before offering her a bite with his sticks that she takes willingly, despite her glare that he innocently ignores. "Why are you even such a lightweight anyways?"

"Newf boffy." She swallows and answers his lifted brow. "New body, then pregnancy. I got a lot to catch up to." At that, she lifts her glass and drinks some more before handing him the glass in order to be conscious as she checks up on the rest of the guests.

Over time, she begins to see how each group of her friends slowly begin to become more inebriated by the second. Some are subtle, less subtle than others - ' _Alright, Tali, no more spiked lemonades for you and Javik? Stop trying to touch people'_ \- and some of the crew that you can only tell their getting plastered by the content of their conversations - ' _Oh boy, I need to worry about a booby trapped apartment now. Thanks,_ _ **honey**_ ' - and she's starting to feel like she, Thane, Kolyat, and Poe are the only sane, sober people around. _And that's not including the AI that is merely faking a slight buzz, so they have legitimate excuses of health, age, and designation going for them, so what the hell am I doing not joining the majority?_

Chuckling, she heads to the bar and motions Traynor over for a drink, her choice, as she gets into the conversation between Vega, Cortez, Wrex, and - she doesn't want to know how or why he's in this conversation - Javik over the better vehicle to take a team to ground.

"We used to ride Threshers," Javik drunkenly slurs. "They have gotten _much_ larger since then. Why is everything much bigger in this cycle?"

"Your cycle sounded like it sucked," Wrex deadpans before looking to James and Steve. "I still say a Tomkah blows all your Makos, Grizzlies, _and_ Kodiaks."

James scoffs with an eye roll. "Nothing can beat the Gizzly. Ugly bastard but the thing could put a hole in your Tomkah." They finally notice her as she's slid a disgusting looking shot from Samantha. "What do you say, Lola?"

The drink burns as it goes down, packing a punch, and she shakes it off with a slight cough. "About what? Vehicles?" Another drink slides to her and she gives a pointed look to Traynor of 'I'm not trying to get shit faced in five minutes flat'. "That a euphemism for sex?"

Wrex is the first to laugh, soon groaning with a hand on his codpiece. "Don't talk to me about sex, woman. This is supposed to be my break."

She snorts and sips at her drink, something smokey with a bit of sweet. "If we're talking vehicles, then I'm talking a Mantis gunship-"

Steve chuckles around his drink and explains to the confused Lieutenant. "A Mantis is a turian-made gunship design."

When Jane smirks, Vega finally gets it and makes a stunned sputter in his drink before he coughs his drink down. "Damn, Lola. Keep it upstairs."

"I do not understand this attraction to another species. Primitives are so strange," Javik grumbles into his drink as the others laugh.

"How do you and him… you know…"

"Fuck?" she supplies in the new N-7's stumbling for words and chuckles, ready to have fun with his hesitant curiosity. "See, they have these barbs… and it slithers, like a snake," she crooks her finger, watching horror flash over his face, "and it has a hook on the end and-"

"Alright, alright," Wrex cuts in, "Let's not give the boy nightmares."

"Dios, you can't be serious."

"Of course she isn't."

She snorts and sobers up to stare in his eyes. "Or am I?"

She leaves them at that and heads into the next group, where a group is circled around the dining table, a small line of drinks with each. It doesn't take much to realize it's a game and she steps in between Tali and Gabby, asking, "So what drinking game are we playing tonight?"

"Never," Tali begins with an exaggerated hand roll, "have I ever."

She chuckles and looks around at the players, Liara, Tali, Gabby, Chakwas, Ashley, Solana and Jack. All women and definitely not the kind of people to pull punches, but what the hell. "Well, I'm in for a round."

They smirk and she knows she in for trouble, too late to pull out now as Gabby starts. "Never have I ever kissed a turian," she holds up a finger, "in any form."

Solana groans and takes a drink as Jane narrows her eyes at the woman, ignoring how Liara, Jack, and Chakwas drink. "That was not cool. Too easy," she grumbles as she takes a drink.

"Now I know why you weren't too squeamish by in back on the SR1, Shepard," Ash adds with a chuckle and gets an eye roll in response.

"Alright, next."

"Never," Chakwas starts, "Have I ever been injured from sex." She smirks at that one, most likely a weighted question.

"Hah! Oh wait. Dammit," Jane curses as she takes a drink, remembering the time she headbutted the headboard once in a really vigorous 'thank god you're alive' bout of sex. There's also, she's sure, a bunch of times she can't remember, but she's not drinking for all those she can't put an exact story to.

"I did," Jack says as she takes a drink, "But it felt so fucking good, so," she takes another drink to illustrate how good it was.

Tali, too, drinks and Jane raises a brow, getting a shrug and lack of explanation. With that as the last drinker, it's now Liara's turn. Granted, her asking is probably a bit unfair, but in their states, who really knows that besides Jane?

"I've never beaten someone to death with my bare hands," she says innocently with a smile as Jane groans and drinks with Jack and Ashley.

"I think this is all a plan to get me plastered."

"My turn," Solana rumbles with a big grin as she looks right at her sister-in-law. "Never have I ever had a relationship of friends turn friends with benefits."

"Fuck buddies?" Jack laughs and pats the woman on the back. "That's a good one!"

The redhead purses her lips with narrowed eyes before taking a long drink on her own. "Seriously? I'm the only one with those kinds of relationships?" They nod and she sighs. "Great… Next person trying to get me drunk."

Jack grins hungrily and rubs her hands. "Never have I ever fucked in a public place _of any kind_."

Chakwas drinks and many look to her in surprise. "I'm not some young maiden, everyone. I have a life outside of the Normandy, you know."

Snorting, Jane almost gets out of drinking when eyes turn to her and she sighs, downing the rest of her drink and, unfortunately, being passed more for the rest of the game. "I better get a chance at this before I have to stumble off to the others."

"Not until myself and Tali," Ashley says as she slides her larger glass to her former Commander. "Better get ready for this because something just _tells_ me this applies to you." She waits for Jane to have drink in hand before saying, "Never have I ever watched porn with another person."

At least, she figures, Tali joins her in this one, taking a few sips through her straw, as well as Jack -no surprise, really - and Sol, which she knows isn't so out of the ordinary for an adult turian, but Jane still feels like these questions are all educated guesses at her married life. Still, it's a bit of a pain in ass having to down another good portion of one of Williams' drinks. Never in her life would she have thought her sex life would be hashed out so completely, but at least she's getting ammo for her own question.

"Ouh, ouh! My turn!" Tali sing-songs as she wavers on her feet, swaying against the table as she giggles. "I've never done something _kinky_." She drinks, forgetting the rules are to _not_ get yourself drunk.

Shaking her head with a heavy breath, which probably isn't such a good idea considering her head is currently swimming in mixed drinks, and downs the rest of the glass. Jack, too, follows, but no surprise there knowing the girl's taste, but soon Daniels, Liara and Ashley follow, making her chuckle. "So practically the whole table."

It finally her turn, Jane smirks and rolls her shoulders then rubs her hands together. "Never… have I ever…" _drum roll_ "fantasized, sexually, about someone in this apartment _that isn't your significant other at the time_."

Groans around the table as she gets everyone of them to drink, actually surprised that Sol has managed to find attraction to someone through the short time on the Normandy and now. Although, with turians as open about it as they are, she supposes she shouldn't be all too intrigued that her sister-in-law found someone from the group of best of the best soldiers to be attracted to, if only for a time.

Chuckling at her success, Jane leaves them and heads out, going upstairs to check on the babies to see if they're asleep and finding Titus up her. "Hey," she says as she steps in. "You know you're invited to the party downstairs, right?"

"I didn't want to intrude. It was clearly a celebration between your crew." He hums and ducks his head, setting aside the datapad he is reading. "I figured I'd watch the children."

She snorts and opens the door. "Get out of here and go have fun. I'm sure Garrus, if he weren't turning the place into a giant explosion waiting to happen, would agree to you enjoying yourself."

"I-"

"Now." Her tone brooks no argument as she crosses her arms. "Go. See if you don't want to get drunk, you don't have to, but at least have fun while everyone is all together." She smiles when he nods and starts to move, looking to the babies.

"They haven't woken in the time that I was here."

"We'll keep an eye on them," she ensures as she walks to the crib and caresses their sleeping heads. When she turns back to the door, her mate's father is gone. "He better be done there with the others," she whispers to no one before bending down and kissing each baby's forehead and closing the door behind her as she steps out.

She doesn't have to go far to find where Titus has gone, as he has found Thane, Margo, and Adams sitting in the upper seating room, chatting over a friendly game of Skyllian Five. They easily deal him and start to chat and laugh about the recent 'clone' incident when Adams asks about the children's decorations of Blasto and his supposed evil twin.

"So, let me get this straight. Shepard had a _clone_ and that's who tried to take the ship," the engineer asks in disbelief and shakes his head. "And as Cerberus attacked?"

"Only with the Captain, right?"

"I thought she is at the rank of Commander?" Titus rumbles in confusion as Thane chuckles raspily.

Margo chuckles and shrugs. "I call her Captain because, well, she might as well have been with how she calls all the shots. Plus, you'd think they'd have given her a rise in ranks after everything!"

Adams, chuckles and nods. "She definitely deserved it."

"I know," she adds with a smirk as she leans on the couch's arm rest. "With all the shit I put up with, I should be the fucking Commander and Chief of the fucking galaxy!" She emphasizes with her hands as she continues. "Shepard, save us from Cerberus! And from the Reapers you all warned us about!"

Chuckling, she shakes her head at the ridiculousness of it all as she takes an offered sushi plate from Knight. "And don't get me started at all the little things."

"It does seem like the Alliance just looks for ideas to send you all over the galaxy," Titus responds with a chuckle. "You get to see more of the galaxy than a vacationing couple."

She snorts as the others laugh and leaves them to their conversations as it takes a turn to laughing at Cerberus incompetence, from Thane's experience to Adams, mixing to a three year long tale of the human organization that just doesn't know when to give up with stupid experiments that always blow up in their faces. Jane is happy to admit that she is just one of those experiments, but she's sure they don't quite see it that way.

Heading back around to the main stairs to take her down, having come up the back ones by the kitchen, she finds a group dancing to Glyph's thumping music. It's not too loud, so she assumes the soundproofing of their room must be good enough not to make it to and wake her children. For that reason, she doesn't force it off as she walks to them and starts to dance the ridiculous, rigged dance she's made famous with her crew.

"Please, Shepard," Kaidan starts with a chuckle. "Tell me that's not all you got after three years."

"Of all the things that upgraded with the Lazarus Project, her dancing was not one of them," Miranda deadpans as she undulates in a seductive dance.

Poe giggles from where she dances with Kolyat, defending her with, "I like it. It gives Shepard character."

"See? I have 'character'," she responds with a raised brow to the group, hearing them chuckle. "Alright, alright." Dropping her arms, she steps around Ilden as she backs out of the circle. "I know when I'm beat. You all have fun in your dancing competition without me."

She mock sniffles as she leaves, heading downstairs and for the rest of the crew. Grunt, in his drunken state, has found himself in the fountain, but she's just not strong enough to pull him out, so she leaves him. Sure that he'll be fine - his head is above the shallow water, after all - she follows voices into the study and finds the poker table, thankfully, being put to use for what might be the first and last time in its life.

"Dammit," the burly merc that was just booby trapping her apartment curses. "You better not be cheating with that sex bot."

"I assure you, Zaeed. I would not assist Jeff unless he agrees to dance."

"I don't do 'dancing', I do breaking and shattering, EDI."

Kasumi flashes into existence long enough to grin and say, "I can't believe I'm missing this on the Normandy."

"Come on now," Kenneth motions a hand at the now 'empty' seat. "How are we supposed to know if you're bluffin'?"

"I don't think Kasumi is actually playing," Jane reassures as she crosses her arms and watches the game. She's going to tell herself there's no reason she's found herself behind Doctor Michel's back, but who knows for sure?

EDI deals for the group and steps back, arms behind her back and back to hounding Joker for a dance, to which Jane is almost ready to offer to do it herself. Instead, she watches the group lift up their cards and start to sort their hands out before laying down bets.

Steadily, she watches as they go around the table, poker faces about as they gauge the others' reactions. Jane, on the other hand, can't help when she sees eyes on her and Michel, making slight facial expressions in tells.

An asshole move? Maybe. But worth it to put the woman in her place for the, even now, blatant come ons to her husband? Absolutely.

 _This'll teach you to send 'turian chocolates' to him after I played tonsil hockey right in front of you in the middle of your hospital,_ she thinks as she crosses her arms and watches as Michel bets against her bad hand. Giving the woman a break, she collects her expressions and leaves the others to deal with it themselves, sighing inwardly when Donnelly falls for it. Apparently, he's still wary of Jane's own poker face that he got confused, but oh well, it's not her credits.

Zaeed manages to catch the woman on her bluff and wins the pot, which leads Jane to leaving them to their game. She's already influenced one game enough, so she sees no reason to keep dragging the woman unknowingly through the dirt. Heading out, she goes in look for her mate, the one person who has, thus far, been nearly impossible to find.

"So wait." She hears the slight thickness of vocals as his voice pulls her to the training room, where he stands with Arcanus, the two sharing a drink, this the however many numbered one for her mate. At least, she figures, he's not staggering and just a bit ragged in his vocals, so maybe he's only as drunk as she is. "You're telling me that you'd have tried to keep her if she wasn't suddenly a giant Reaper thing?"

"As I said, I deemed the risk too great," Reguix explains with a nod in greeting to her as she enters, Garrus rumbling warmly at her. "Shepard, good to see you. Garrus and I were just going over the hypotheticals of your clone situation."

"Wonderful," she deadpans. "Why does everything involve the clone today?"

Garrus chuckles and says, "Because it's not everyday your clone tries to kill you?"

She rolls her eyes and looks to the older turian. "So you'd save her?"

"Save her? No, but should you have apprehended her for whatever reason and she was merely influenced by, say, Cerberus, instead of the Reapers, it would cross my mind to attempt to undo those damages." He takes a sip as she raises a brow in question.

Garrus growls unbidden, but not so much at the man as the thought of the clone still urking him, she can tell, and frowns. "Why consider it?"

The looks long and hard into his drink, rumbling softly in thought before he squares his shoulders and looks straight into, not hers, but her husband's eyes and explains, "I am not a person who would ever allow himself to sink themselves to the level of, how do humans say it, 'making a move' on another's mate?"

If Jane had a drink, she'd cough at the _thought_ of that statement, never once expecting it from the older man she was sure she caused to sigh in exasperation more than her own mate on occasion, and she watches the golden eyes flick to her before focusing once again on cool blue as he speaks without falter. "I will freely admit, Garrus Vakarian. I am jealous." With that, he takes his drink in hands behind his back and strolls from the room, never looking back.

"Wait…" She looks to her mate, at least knowing the drink has calmed him enough, perhaps even put Archangel into a warm, peaceful nap, not to snap at the man for his honesty - which she's actually doubtful of he even doing given the oddity _and_ the fact that Arcanus was going about it deceptively. Possessive, yes, but she's never known Garrus to rip someone's head off for admitting it once and dropping it.

"Did he just…"

She pauses at that before shouting in disbelief, "What's with everyone trying to fuck me?!"


	38. Chapter 38

-Jane-

Sleeping curled up with a warm turian she loved certainly wasn't the worst position Jane could have ever woken up to. Granted, she was a bit blurry about the end of the night and just how and when they got up here in the master bedroom, but it didn't really matter, the babies were asleep so they were cared for and she didn't have a pounding headache probably thanks to taking something before bed.

 _Right, 'bed'_ , she thinks with a smirk and snort, looking over at the peaceful look on her mate's face. Despite all the crazy shit he was getting himself into last night, she can't seem to find reason to really complain. He was only doing as a good, loving father should, tending to the safety of his family. Even if that father also happened to be Archangel and the Hierarchy's Reaper Advisor.

Reaching out to him, she caresses his face from brow to jaw with the soft backside of her hand. His is a beauty that came not from looks alone - because he certainly is sex on two feet for her - but from the friendship that came so easily between them, grew into the deepest love she's ever felt for anyone. Before him, she was just living for herself, seeing days one at a time, but now? Now she has a partner through it all to lean on and carry in turn and two tiny treasures that was only possible thanks to him.

She scoots her body closer to his and smiles when he unconsciously pulls her even closer, purring in her sleep as he nuzzles his chin over the top of her head. She'd never be able to tell him, but he's absolutely adorable when he cuddles and clings to her in sleep, instincts or not.

All is nice and cute, that is, until she feels something very telling against her that makes her smirk deviously. Who would, in all actuality, complain at what she's about to do? And it's not like they're going to have to make someone sleep in dirty sheets with everyone but his father and sister heading their own ways or following them back to the Normandy.

Mind made up, she gently urges him onto his back, ignoring his sleepy grumble. She climbs up onto him and feels that she's at least half-woken him from his slumber when his hand lazily grip her thighs, but he doesn't move much more than that.

Grinding against him, she sighs as the ridges of his erection rub against her clit, sending little jolts down to her toes and up to the tips of her fingers as they grip over his cowl. She hears him growl in his sleep as his hands twitch, a sure sign that her 'good morning' won't last long before he wakes, so she decides to skip the teasing foreplay.

Jane lifts onto her knees and reaches down to take blue length in hand, stroking once for that guilty pleasure she's always had at touching his fluids and playing her hands over his cock. Once they two sexes that nature never intended would come together line up, she gently lowers down over him, biting back her moan at the near painful stretch of being filled and spread to accommodate, even after so long of taking him - and only him, in the case of her new body. He, too, groans deep in his throat as the muscles in his stomach clench under her hand and she takes it as a win that, even in sleep, she has that control over him in this moment.

She lifts and looks down, watching him appear from between her legs, before she lowers at the same steady pace with a sighing moan, grinding when they come flush to get another sort of stimulation from him. When she lifts to start again, his hands tighten as a deep growl rumbles through him, through their connection, and into her through her sensitive vaginal walls. It makes her moan loud, but it isn't what wakes him, not when she looks down and sees those dark, hungry eyes and smirk to tell her it was all on purpose.

"Fuck… you… you smug bastard." She pants as he thrusts up into her once before letting her go to have control. "This was supposed to be me riding you."

"What can I say?" She starts to move, faster this time and takes a smug kind of delight in his mandibles falling slack in pleasure. "You feel so good, Jane," he whispers, losing his train of thought, as his hands caress over her thighs, upward thrusts urging her to move faster, harder.

Not needing more than that as request, she moves harder over him, impaling herself with moans and pants, as she stares down into his near black eyes. He stares right back at her in challenge, growling and raising a hand to tangling in her hair as he jerks her head back.

That force, that control even when under her, takes her breath away and sets the coil in her belly aflame and she whines as her walls spasm around him. Feeling that, he rolls them, thrusting into her constricted walls a few more times before pulling out to spurt onto the bed sheets, curling over her to kiss her deeply.

Tongues battle and tangle for a time before he pulls back, chuckling and rumbling low. "That was quite the wake-up call."

She snorts and smirks up at him, playfully tugging his mandible. "In that case, don't expect it too often."

Flicking his tugged mandible in what she can best describe as an exasperated eye roll for his species, she kisses her cheek and slowly climbs from the bed, searching for his clothes. "I guess I can always repay the favor one on of the many mornings up awake before you," he trails off.

"You better." A groan from the bathroom snaps their heads to the room and she leans over on the bed to get a look. "What the fuck was that?"

"Commander…"

"Javik," they both say at that groaned call, going to the bathroom without a care for their state of undress. He _is,_ after all, in their bathroom, in their bedroom.

"You… primitives…" His head lolls, sign of his hangover. When he got into their bedroom in the night, they have no clue. "What are you doing in my stasis pod? … Is this is a horrendous stasis dream?"

Chuckling, she looks to her mate and smirks. "Why, yes. Only in your nightmares would primitives rule the galaxy."

He sighs in relief and closes all of his eyes slowly, keeping them closed as he says, "no more Liara."

They both snort at that, Garrus rumbling in humor as he shakes his head and moves to finish dressing. She leaves Javik and follows him to the pile of clothes on the floor, detangling her underwear from her pants before pulling them on. Next is her bra, shirt, and relaxing jacket and then she's all ready to head out to see how everyone else is faring.

Most everyone seems to still be asleep, the hour and ungodly one for most who hadn't taken anything ahead of time for their state of drunkenness and its resulting morning after. Liara is already awake and working, which isn't all that surprising, with a mug of something steaming in hand.

"I see your relaxation didn't last long."

The asari smiles and looks up from her datapad. "Now, Shepard. I enjoy my work. All the information at my fingertips? It's exhilarating and something I don't mind getting lost in."

"Right. Because that's all we need is a recluse that knows everything there ever is to know about everyone," Garrus adds with a raised brow.

Jane snorts and chuckles before relaxing on the couch for a moment, asking, "Who else is up?"

"Doctors Chakwas and Michel have already left to assist at Huerta before we leave, but I believe Arcanus is awake."

"Working, probably." She sighs and stands. "Well, time to wake everyone up."

"Shepard," she admonishes in that soft voice of hers, but they are already heading downstairs, stepping over the sleeping krogan on the floor. How Wrex and Grunt could find the floor of the small balcony with the strange artwork comfortable is a mystery, but she won't wake them just yet.

Heading into the main sitting room, they find Arcanus just finishing up a conversation over his comm - most likely with his men either here on the Citadel or out fighting the Reapers - and he turns at the sounds of their footsteps. It isn't all that surprising that all that happened, and was said, last night doesn't come up in his face, but what _is_ fascinating is that Garrus doesn't automatically go into defensive husband mode. _Could it be that, in the way he said it, that Garrus doesn't feel threatened in his claim over me?_

Whatever it is, the conversation is in the past as Garrus rumbles and motions towards the bottle of something on the piano and a mix match set of four glasses. "Drinking again, Arcanus? Didn't have enough last night?"

"Actually, I was hoping to catch the two of you alone for this." Curious, they approach the piano as he starts to pour a small amount into each glass. "I want to propose a small toast. Do not worry, it is only an amount needed for the gesture."

He hands them both a glass of something strong smelling, yet fragrant. Probably that drink he likes so much, Nilli Suc-blah blah. One goes to each, but the fourth is set on the piano, strangely enough. She wants to ask, but figures he will explain as he raises his glass.

"I do not know when I may next see you-"

"Wait. You're not coming with us?" She scowls and sets her glass down, but tries to keep her voice down to not wake the others in the room. "You're going to split the second I tell you everything about Saren but the color of his panties? We had a deal. We need you on the Normandy."

He hums and shakes his head slightly. "I have confidence it is quite the opposite. You are more than capable to accomplish anything this war will bring before you. I, unfortunately, find myself drawn from your service so that I may also aid you."

"By leading the Blue Suns personally," Garrus supplies and the man nods.

She sighs heavily and rubs her forehead, seeing how the older man offers the glass again and wishing she could knock it back in his face. _Now, of all times to lose a man._

"Please, Shepard. I know you are angry, but I believe there is a human saying about parting on negative terms. I am truly sorry that circumstances interfere with our deal, but I will be of greater use to you here, coordinating my men personally."

"So this toast is, what, a goodbye and go fuck yourself?" She glares at the glass before snatching it from his hand. "Gee, thanks."

"Jane," her mate hums and tilts his head in silent 'be nice'. Damn him, that only wants to make her pout angrily even more.

Sighing, she nods and drops her head. "Fuck. Yeah, you're right. Great fucking timing, though."

"Indeed," the older man agrees with a hum. "It is why I feel the need to do this now for I do not know when we shall meet again." He holds up his glass, once again. "I propose a toast. To the end of the war and, more importantly, the Reapers." Both turians growl at that in determination to prove that true and she smirks in 'damn right' as the two lift their glasses.

"To you, Shepard, and you, Garrus." Arcanus looks to the untouched glass with a rumble. "And to my good friend, Saren, who, without his, albeit, misguided attempt, we would not know of the Reapers before it was too late."

She frowns and looks at the glass. "You know, before all the conversations about him, I used to think he was a complete prick. But, while he may still have been one, he was fucked by the Reapers. Even an asshole like him didn't deserve their brain in a blender."

"You gave him a chance to redeem himself, Jane." Garrus hums and leans against the piano. "I may not have liked the way he worked, but, in taking his life, he absolved himself of his crimes." He looks to her and, seeing her confused look, explains, "Turians don't punish the dead and forgive the past when one sacrifices themselves in order to repair the damage."

Nodding in understanding, she lifts a glass to the empty place. True, she would do it all over because it's her job, but even she isn't cold hearted enough to fool herself into thinking that talking down she had done was just because she didn't want to fight. She had actually wanted to try and talk through the haze from the Reapers to get to the man beneath and she had, and he even _thanked_ her for it.

They all three down the single gulp of drinks and set the glasses down. "Thank you," Arcanus says with a rumble. "Perhaps at the end of this war we may have a proper toast."

She chuckles and nods, offering a hand, despite it being a very human gesture, and smiles when he takes it, shaking it firmly. Instead of an out-of-character shake between he and her mate, the two say something with rumbles and clicks and give a low duck of their heads.

Arcanus leaves with that in passing, head held high and regal as he steps from the sleeping apartment and down the hall to take the lift. Where his quest in this war takes him, she doesn't know, but she hopes the war doesn't grind him underfoot like what seems the norm for her.

Garrus is the first to break the silence with a thoughtful hum. "Looks like we're racking up the after-war meetings." He chuckles and looks down at her, adding, "I wonder what they'll all say when they find out we're going into hiding the moment the Reapers are destroyed?"

Jane snorts and smirks. "Retirement, Garrus? You think you can handle that?"

Shrugging, he steps back into the apartment, whispering so they do not wake the occupants of the couches. "We won't know until we try it."

"I want to contact Thane and make sure our wild party didn't cramp his solitary, quiet assassin vibe," she says as she motions him to go on ahead and opens her tool when he nods, the apartment doors closing behind his back.

It is only a few moments before Thane answers, coughing before actually speaking and Jane can't help the frown at his condition. Hell, she might have made it worse asking him if he wanted to join them, knowing he'd say yes because of his utter hatred for hospitals.

"Hello, Shepard," he says weakly, his voice hoarse. _Damn. He sounds like complete shit._

"I wanted to check up on you. You three snuck out right after the picture." She chuckles. "Sleeping arrangements weren't _that_ bad."

He chuckles weakly, smiling. "You say that because you and Garrus had a room to yourselves and your children."

Snorting, she shakes her head. " _Actually_ , Javik snuck in at some time. Pretty sure he probably touched them in the middle of the night trying to figure out how the hell they were born again." At another cough, she frowns again. "Hell, you sound like shit, Thane."

After having spent time with her, he understands to shrug it off as he takes a drink of something from offscreen. "Please, Shepard. I have made peace with my condition, but I will not sit idle. I enjoyed my time at your apartment last night and I feel that it was good for Kolyat, as well. It is good to know he will have others when I go."

"Damn…" She huffs a weak laugh. "You know how to lighten the mood."

"I apologize. But you should not worry about me. You have other matters of greater concern."

"The Reapers."

"Your family," he corrects with a cough.

"I fight for them, Thane. I haven't forgotten." Sighing, she runs a hand through her hair. "But I know what you meant about getting too wrapped up in your work to be able to spend it with your family. Even with them right there, we spend less and less time with our kids because of this damn war."

"That… is why… you win it," he says between coughs.

Frowning, she waits until he finishes before speaking. "I really shouldn't force you to speak with all… that." He waves it off, but she stays firm. "Get some rest, Thane. We will talk later."

Nodding in understanding and parting, he reaches forward and closes the call. Alone in the hall, Jane leans her back against the wall and thinks over the fact that this morning may be the last time she sees many of her friends. Once they part, almost everyone will spread out to their place in the galaxy, prepare and fight in the biggest fight of their lives.

She is almost frozen with that and other, similar, thoughts of the war before she pulls herself together, stands up straight, and heads back inside. There still hasn't been any change in the sleepy guests, but at least EDI is 'up' from wherever she was, beside Joker most like, and calmly looks out of the windows down on the Silversun Strip.

"Good morning, Shepard."

"Morning, EDI. Everyone still asleep?"

"It would seem so. Garrus is currently feeding the babies in the kitchen," she says as she points towards the back of the kitchen to the dining area where her mate quietly feeds one baby while the other sleeps their portable bassinet, a gift from his sister after she saw their near complete lack of supplies. "He has already fed Damocles and is now feeding Cassia."

Jane chuckles at EDI's overabundance of observations, the insight of an AI that sees all sometimes unnecessarily revealing in most times - like the _gift_ she recently bought them on her shopping trip that Jane hasn't yet found the perfect time to show her mate. "Thanks for the info," she says as she sits at the piano, turning it on over the apartment.

"Shepard. Playing now would wake the apartment."

"That's the idea," she responds with a chuckle, starting to play a soft pattern of keys.

Sounds of soft groans fill her ears, but she doesn't slow, needing to wake her sleeping team before they manage to sleep the day away. Fun as that sounds, they need to get back to the reality, but, for now, she'll have her fun.

"Company," she starts. "Always on the run. Destiny with the rising sun. Oh. I was born, six-gun in my hand. Behind the gun I'll make my final stand. That's why they call me." Knowing it'll wake the whole apartment, she hits the keys faster, playing the chorus. "Bad company-"

"Shut the fuck up, Shepard!"

"-And I can't deny. Bad Company-"

"That's no lullaby," Wrex groans. "How can you be so cheery?"

"Rebel souls," she continues - now calm again - through their complaining, watching as bodies start to move, knowing she won't give up. "Deserters we are called. Chose a gun, and threw away the sun. Now these towns, they all know our name." Looking over at her approaching husband, humor on his face as he carries the bassinet over, she nods in greeting. "Six-gun sound is our claim to fame. I can hear them say."

"Dios." James walks towards the kitchen. "Mercy, Lola."

"Bad, bad company! Till the day I die-"

Titus, obviously not one to have had too many drinks, comes over and sits on one of the free couches, offering to take one of the babies. Cassia is handed over as her mate takes out their son, holding him to his shoulder as he smiles at her and takes a seat beside her as she sings the last, repeating choruses.

Just as she's finishing up her 'wake-up call', she sees Kaidan heading towards them with a confused look on his face as he stares down at a small, recognizable jar in his hand. _If he'd just look up, he'd have the answer he's probably not expecting._

"Hey, Shepard, Garrus, why are there…" He trails off as he looks up and eyes widen to the size of saucers at seeing the baby on Garrus' shoulder. "Holy shit."

Jane snorts and laughs loud at his slip of language, flicking off the piano as she spins to face him, laughs turning into chuckles. "Never seen a baby before?"

Kaidan shakes it off, blinking rapidly. "Uh… why do you have a baby?"

" _Two_ babies," she corrects with a smirk and motions her daughter. "And they're ours." A loud shatter makes her lean to look around him to see Williams in almost the _exact_ same state, only her mug of what looks like coffee is all over her feet. "Oh, wonderful! Now I won't have to repeat. These are our babies."

"What?" Ash asks, still lost. "Whose?"

" _Ours._ Mine and Garrus'"

"Shepard, please tell me you didn't steal babies," Alenko deadpans and both parents and grandparent chuckle.

"Now would I do that?" He shrugs, still concerned at where two babies came from. "Remember the news on Earth talking about me being pregnant?" Both of them nod and she smirks, pointing a thumb to her husband. "I certainly wasn't knocked up by anyone but this asshole." That gets her a snort from her husband. "Scientific shit that you can ask Garrus for, they're hybrids."

Garrus rumbles and turns Damocles to show them his five fingered hand, the fingers do tiny against his single, large forefinger. Their mouths fall open as he soon growls in threat, demanding, "This _stays_ between crew and _only_ between the crew. _No one_ must know of them outside this apartment. Are we clear?"

She really hopes they understand the trust they are putting in them, really hopes it doesn't bite them in the ass. As it is, they only have the nods of understanding to believe, but she hopes that, after all the bitching and arguing, she will have earned some true understanding and support from the two. If not, she's sure it won't just be a mated pair hunting them down, but the entire apartment's occupants at their backs.

"Sh… Shepard," Kaidan starts, clearing his throat before trying again. "You've had babies with you all this time. On the Normandy?" She nods and his eyes widen a bit before he asks, "Why suddenly trust us?"

"Because it has to start somewhere-"

"And we couldn't just deny it when you see us holding them right here," Garrus adds and she nods in agreement.

"Damn," Ashley says with a slight huff of a laugh. "You've been fighting _and_ playing parents. Remind me not to ever compare to you two."

Jane chuckles and smiles, glad that the air is starting to clear between them. _It only took us all getting shit faced together. Go figure._ "Just know that, if you're on the Normandy, there's no way you're getting out of babysitting duty."

Kaidan shakes his head a bit, holding his hands up in front of his body. "Whoa. I barely managed to hold onto their food just now. Let's not rush the 'hybrid babysitting' duties."

"And I don't even know if Hackett is going to give me a post on the Fleet yet," Williams adds with a chuckle as she takes a towel James offers and starts to clean up her mess with her foot. "So I might be able to get out of it." She smiles up at the couple, a warm gesture that helps Jane believe it when she says, "And, don't worry, I won't say a thing."

"Neither will I," Alenko agrees. "My lips are sealed."

Garrus nods in thanks as Jane smiles and watches the two return to the kitchen, Kaidan to probably go back to raiding their fridge as Ash cleans up her mess. That leaves the two of them somewhat alone at the piano as the crew starts to mill about the apartment, waking up and trying to catch their breath.

As she takes his free hand and squeezes, Margo approaches with a smile, holding out his hands in 'gimme, gimme'. Garrus chuckles and gently hands over the baby, the man falling immediately in love with the twins the moment he saw them.

"I just wanted to come say goodbye before Miri and I head down to the Docks." McKnight smiles and softly rocks Damocles in his arms. "She is leaving soon and I want to see her off." Using the tip of his finger, he tickles the baby on the nose, watching the boy twitch his mandibles with a chirp and chuckling.

After a few more playful tickles, he offers the baby back and Jane gratefully takes her son to her chest. Margo smiles as Miranda comes, holding a mug of something that doesn't inherently smell of coffee, so much be tea.

"Did you two enjoy yourselves?" Garrus asks with a knowing rumble and Miranda chuckles.

"I won't acknowledge that with an answer." She smirks softly and sips from her mug before setting it down and taking Margo's hand. "It was nice to unwind, to live, if just for a few days, like a normal human being."

"Of turian in my case," Jane's mate adds with a chuckle. "After this war, I think we've all earned an early retirement."

Wrex snorts as he passes. "It'd never last."

"Either way," Lawson says with a smile as they turn to leave. "I think we deserve something after all this."

"This time at your place," Jane calls out as they head out of the apartment. Chuckling, she turns to her husband with a smile. "This was something we all needed."

He rumbles and presses his forehead to hers. "I haven't seen you so completely at ease in three years. I'm starting to remember what that was like."

She huffs a soft laugh and kisses his mandible. "When this is over, you, me, and the twins are going to know what that feeling is again."

"I'll make sure of it," he agrees with a deep thrum as he kisses her softly.


	39. Chapter 39

-Garrus-

Noveria was not a place he ever expected himself to revisit, but, it seems, this galaxy shattering war has a way of bringing people back to their roots, so to speak. Even more so, he never would have guessed they find their way to Port Hanshan, yet, here they were, docking at the nearly the _same_ dock they had three years ago.

Luckily, this time, they were expected thanks to a man they hadn't had contact with but for a passing message since coming here looking for Matriarch Benezia, now-Administrator Lorik Qui'in. According to his recent hail to the Normandy, he was noticing some troubling activity that fell out of the executive board's concern, but may turn out to assist in their war effort.

How were they to pass it up once they heard it involved Cerberus?

Stepping out of the Normandy and into the cold Noveria air - _at least it's not during a blizzard_ \- Garrus shakes off the initial shock at the drastic change. He ignores the raised brow from his mate, knowing the question about his suit's ability to keep him warm, and simply says, "If I freeze to death in this suit, then I need my credits back."

She snorts as they walk through the checkpoint, pointedly ignoring the blaring alarms as security waves them on. "Looks like it pays off to be on the good side of the Administrator. Now, we only get dirty and suspicious looks instead of constant questioning."

"Now we just need to see how much bureaucracy and red tape we'll have to get through."

"Spectres Vakarian and Shepard," a woman in a long gown greets when they step into the main lobby of the port, Qui'in's assistant most like since there's really only a handful of people who'd want to address their arrival and he doubts Lorik suddenly found a way to turn into a lavender skinned asari. "I am Administrative Assistant, D'Lana. Administrator Qui'in would like to pass on his greetings and hopes you'd do him the honor of visiting him in his office."

"Honor, huh?" Jane chuckles and shrugs. "Why the hell not? He _did_ contact us, after all. Want to lead the way or do we just go, because we know the way. Unless you changed things around here."

She simply smiles and holds a hand out in 'right this way', walking them to the office. "We have, in fact, made some changes since the last time you were here, Spectres, though, I don't believe you had seen much past the hotel's lounge, so it may not seem all that different."

Looking over, he sees his wife give him a look as she moves her mouth mockingly at the woman continuing to talk of 'changes' made to the port, of things they have absolutely zero interest in unless it affects their clearance out of here or initial reason to be here. He just hopes that they don't have to jump through so many loops this time.

"Ah, Commander Shepard and Praetor Vakarian." Lorik stands from his desk as his assistant leads them into his office. She leaves silently as he crosses over the opulent rug on the otherwise smooth tile, in an even finer suit than the last they had seen him in, and offers a hand to Jane, nodding in greeting to Garrus. "I can't say that it is all too good to see you considering your reputation of, what do you say, causing ripples?"

" _But_ you have a feeling we're needed?"

"Indeed. You see, Commander, I have begun to notice something curious." He motions them to take seats as he walks back to his desk, the seats they are offered plush lounge chairs that creak under Garrus' armored weight. "As you may not know, Cerberus has various facilities here on Noveria. While not what concerns me, it is their activity that causes confusion." He hums and crosses his arms over his desk, looking between them. "They have begun an assault on one of their own facilities."

"Why didn't you just bring this up to the executive board?" Garrus doesn't understand why they've been brought in, but he has to admit the potential to add one more tally to their 'Cerberus Facilities Taken Down' chart _does_ sound appealing. At least, he figures, they haven't yet heard anything telling from Hackett concerning their next move in the war.

Qui'in chuckles and asks, "Have you forgotten how things work on Noveria? Cerberus is free to do as it pleases with its facilities and personnel." Jane opens to speak, most likely ask what the hell they're doing here then, when he continues with a rumbling that matches his slight smirk. "However, what two Spectres do when they're here is none of my concern. After all, you _have_ paid for docking permissions."

In truth, they haven't paid a credit for anything, their docking completely free and 'paid for' with Qui'in's order to allow them through. "And this fighter base you told us about in your message? Is it one of the facilities?"

"Yes," Lorik answers, accessing his terminal to type something, then eject and OSD. Once he hands it over, he brings his hands under his chin. "The fighter base was once a manufacturing plant used by the company. I suspect that is where the attack on their other facility is originating from. This OSD contains the coordinates of each facility."

Whatever is important enough to warrant an attack from within the human terrorist group could be more valuable than the fighter base. They may have come as a preemptive strike against Cerberus before their foothold here could become a problem, but now they may have their hands on something that, obviously, is worth enough to warrant Cerberus attacking their own facility.

That is, he admits, if they aren't just assaulting their own because of some side-effect of the Indoctrination most of them have apparently submitted themselves to without knowing.

* * *

They fought hard against Cerberus troops, defending and watching Kaidan's six while he worked on dropping the facility's communications. Without it, the fighters attacking the other facility -what looked like a research station from what they could find in this base's computers- would have limited to no means of communicating with this facility to coordinate their attack. Their thoughts were that it would benefit them when they move on to the second should they have to find a defensive force there as well.

"Shepard," Kaidan calls over the comm just as Garrus fires at the cockpit of an Atlas closing in on their position, close to whittling away its armor to give him the opening to take the killing shot. "I've taken down their communications!"

The man slides into cover beside Jane not a moment later, peeking out to Overload an incoming group of troops. From his position, Garrus watches Jane give a nod in acknowledgment before rolling from cover and throwing one of the proximity mines he had given her to use thanks to her position further up on the field in combat.

Her throw is good, as she gets the explosive into the direct path of the Atlas, and he watches as the mech steps directly on it. Only a split second passes before it detonates, blowing off the mech's leg and sending it crashing to the ground and Garrus knows before she thinks it what his mate is planning to do.

Covering her from his own position, he feels more than sees her charge the downed Atlas, shattering the front shield. When he looks in her direction to cover her flank, he watches as she reaches in and starts hammering her biotically protected fist into the pilot's helmet, denting it with each punch.

He can hear her pants over the comm when she finally stills as the last Cerberus soldier falls to Alenko's reave. Looking to his position across the field, she motions both men closer with a twitch of her bloody hand as she looks around, scanning for more hostiles. "Move out. We still have some fighters to blow up. Garrus, you still have those explosives strapped on your back?"

"Unfortunately," he deadpans as he makes his way over. Granted, the actual canisters of explosive substance he was carrying was actually harmless until connect to a receiver and detonated, but it didn't stop him from constantly 'complaining'. "Unless legs suddenly materialized on them and they climbed off."

She snorts and moves to check on the state of his heating coils, which she doesn't think he's noticed since they got onto the shuttle over here. He appreciates the concern, but freezing to death was, quite frankly, the mistake of three years ago Garrus Vakarian. Now he was fully equipped with enough heating coils to warm the entire Normandy in deep space.

Gently nudging her to keep a look out, he heads for the fighters that still hadn't been deployed. "Jane and Kaidan, watch my back and, whatever you do, do not activate the explosives? I may be cold, but now that cold."

"Says the one that always used to complain, 'turians don't like the cold, Shepard. Have I ever told you that?'." Her impersonation of him is horrendous, but it does get both men chuckling, so he lets it go and, instead, occupies himself with securing the plastic explosive to the hull of each fighter.

"Shepard, we got incoming."

"Shit. Stay on it Vakarian." She pats his shoulder roughly before rushing forward. _**I got your back.**_

He hums as he works, dodging the incoming fire as he rolls and crawls under the hulls of the fighters to make sure he gets each and every one, slapping a block of explosive on and inserting the detonator. Making sure that every single one is covered with they blow this place - most likely damaging the rest of the landing pad as well, which is an unintended benefit - he pulls out his rifle and quickly fires, taking down an incoming Phantom before it could get close to Alenko.

"Explosives are set," he confirms as he reloads a heat sink just as an Atlas ducks under the opening cargo doors, starting to fire on their position. "Cortez, what is your position?"

"I'm on my way to the LZ, sir. Just losing a pack of dogs."

"Move your ass," Jane growls as she fires a spike into the slot of a Guardian's shield as it draws on her. "We need to be out of here yesterday!"

Seeing her position is too close to the Atlas, Garrus calls out to her to get down and out of the way as he fires rapidly, overheating his Widow and switching out heatsinks so fast it's all a blur. He growls constantly with each step closer to his mate it gets, putting his rage behind each bullet until he does it, gets the shot he's needing.

Once the shielding of the core on the back of the Atlas is destroyed, the heavy plating crumbling under his repeated fire, it's all too easy to send the mech into a critical state. That's exact what he does when he fires into the core, the thing immediately sounding with deafening alarms as it whines before exploding into a bloom smoke and flames.

_**Holy fuck… warn me next time!** _

_I told you to get down for a reason._

_**I thought that was because it was heading for me.** _

_As if I'd ever let it_ _**actually** _ _get close enough to you to worry._

The Normandy's shuttle comes flying towards them, barely losing its tail by the looks and hurried call from the pilot. "Come on!"

"You heard the man! To the shuttle!" She starts to throw biotics to clear their way, covering Kaidan as he jumps into the shuttle and Garrus as he jumps from his cover and sprints to her. With a final biotic shove of the Cerberus troops closing in, she slams the shuttle door shut and shouts, "Get us the fuck out of here!"

Feeling the shuttle jump under their feet as they all remove their helmet for a chance to breathe, Garrus smirks as he offers the detonator to his mate once her own is gone. "For you, madam."

"It's yours. You did the work." She smirks and adds, "Don't say I never did anything for you."

He chuckles and flips open the trigger guard, growling as he presses the button, hearing the heavy click of its denotation. In only a moment, they hear the roar of the explosions, the radar on Cortez's terminal flickering in activity before dying down to normal readings.

"Good work, Vakarian. You pressed a button," his mate says with a warm chuckle as she heads to the cockpit. "Now let's go find ourselves a science facility and see what else we can destroy and how many more bad days we can give people."

* * *

They did manage to find themselves a fight when they flew into the Cerberus science facility, but it didn't reveal something they had expected. Where they figured it was probably infighting within the Cerberus ranks, perhaps Indoctrinated against those still with some mental capacity and will to live, it was _actually_ deserters that Cerberus was gunning for.

Even more interesting, these deserters were lead by none other than Jacob Taylor, former soldier for Cerberus himself just six months ago.

He took a hit, though, and they have to carry him into the facility just as a woman comes running. She's young, of a darker complexion similar to Jacob's own, and seems to be the one mostly in charge of whatever research they are doing here while Taylor has been covering their defenses. That it, until they were severely outnumbered and outmatched.

They have a moment to regroup and get Jacob to a medic, their greeting party dispersing to rush back to what seems like an effort to pack supplies and equipment up for their escape. Garrus isn't sure what they're researching, but he hopes this need to take everything is justified by something groundbreaking.

"Why does the Illusive Man want you dead," Jane asks the Brynn, the lead of the science team.

"If you want my suspicion? Tying loose ends." She sighs and crosses her arms in discomfort. "We were all working on individual pieces of larger tech, smaller formulas to an even larger equation."

"Equation?" Garrus rumbles in thought, frowning as he shifts his helmet to his hip. "For what?"

"We believe he was trying to discover more about dark energy."

He growls and looks to his mate as she explains to the confused woman and their former, and current, squadmates. "The Reapers were created to 'solve' the dark energy problem. For some reason, they think killing entire civilizations helps."

"The Reapers?" Cole's eyes widen in surprise. "That… certainly explains the Illusive Man's interest in the Collector Base."

"Come again," Jane says, turning her head to the side to turn an ear to hear it better this time. "We destroyed the base."

"Apparently not all of it," Jacob explains with a scowl. "And he apparently had techs make a false IFF to get into the Omega-4 too after EDI uploaded the schematics. _Before_ she was unshackled."

Growling, Garrus shakes his head. "All that and for what? So he could go back and start using that tech on his own people." He shakes his head, trying to drop it for now while there is going to still be more resistance, and looks to Taylor. "You all need to evacuate, there's no way that firefight outside is the last we see of Cerberus."

"We need to get the AA towers on the roof back online. Cerberus has jammed them, the controls are useless down here." 'We' as in the three soldiers still capable of fighting, but Garrus won't scrutinize the man's words. "I think they've tampered with the network link from the outside. We need those guns online or any escape will be shot out of the sky."

"Jacob, you're injured," Brynn says as she lifts his arm over her shoulder. "Commander Shepard and her team can handle the guns, right?" Jane nods. "See? We need to get you to a medic."

The team starts to follow them up the steps and into the actual facility from the shuttle bay access when a man calls out to them, slowing Garrus and the others while Jacob and Brynn continue deeper inside. At first, he doesn't recognize him, isn't able to put a name to the human face that, to him, has no distinguishingly enough features - and they meet so many people for him to remember them all. That is, he doesn't recognize the man until he speaks.

"Officer Vakarian," the man turns completely and Garrus can't hold back his growl. There's only one person that would address him before his mate, a man that she wasn't around to speak to. "I… see to remember me."

"Hard to forget," he says with a scowl.

"Yes, well," the man ducks his head, "after you took my brother to the Alliance, I tried putting that behind me." Garrus' mandibles twitch angrily at that and he almost wonders if he can punch the man and see if he can break his nose again, this time beyond repair. "I… I don't suppose you have any news of him? With the Reapers, I worry for him."

What does his owe this man? Does he really deserve to know the truth of his brother, of the child-like mind he nearly destroyed with his torture? What good is worrying _now_ when he was the sole reason for so much fear and pain?

"Ever hear the saying 'too little, too late'?" He snaps, growling low as he steps closer to the worthless human being. "You don't deserve to worry about him after what you put him through."

Jane, obviously understanding from here who this man is and what his association is with them, steps in. "We don't know where your brother is. Earth was the first hit by the Reapers."

"Oh." Archer's face falls as his voice breaks. "I… I see. Excuse me."

Garrus watches the man, a look of despair on his face, leave them, heading for a secluded corner, but he doesn't grant him the solace of others seeing him take his life. Even as a turian who believes crimes can be forgiven in death, he doesn't think the man should _ever_ be granted forgiveness. One's own blood is irreplaceable and valuable, not an object to used as he had pleased.

When they reach the roof, they find that Cerberus has set up a strategic defense using the natural structures of the room as well as their own barricades, shield generators, and crates of supplies for the facility. The three of them are left at a distance, using tech and biotics from afar to whittle down the numbers as they slowly advance.

The troops are defending one position and, upon clearing out the area of hostiles, they find the source of the problems with the AA guns. Cerberus troops had hard wired their way into the defense's telemetry and shut off the commands from within to reaching the weapons. Once the communication channel is reopened, they have to regroup and head across the field once again to get to the AA guns themselves to manually reactivate them.

Jane covers him as he climbs onto a heating unit, laying down upon his perch, and it gives him the perfect angle to provide covering fire as Kaidan and Jane have to first climb _down_ between the ventilation structures and pipes before they can climb back up onto level ground with the incoming Cerberus fire.

Clearing the path for them to get onto better ground, his position never quite figured out by the enemy, he turns his attention to the manned turret, needing to get its attention of his mate. The first shot embeds itself in the thick metal shielding his target and he curses under his breath, calling out to his wife.

_I can get that turret off you if you distract it enough to turn._

_**In need of a shot, I see**_. He can practically feel her smirk, but she starts to move, charging into a group close enough that the turret has to turn, changing its line of sight.

 _Perfect._ He purrs as he fires, watching the head of the head of the turret occupant explode as his body falls from the seat. That taken care of, he focuses his sights on those around his mate, killing those she hasn't chosen in her string of actions as she plays them out.

"Alenko, get on that AA and get it working!" She shouts over the sound of gunfire. "We have your six!"

"Loud and clear!"

Garrus watches the man climb up the ladder and fires at a sniper that takes notice of his movements, dropping her before she can raise her weapon. He and Jane work in tandem as he covers her while she slowly makes her way towards the other.

Without any idea how many fighters are in the air right now waiting to shoot down the escaping shuttles - though, limited thanks to their attack on the base just before - they need those guns on immediately, so, while he doesn't necessarily like it, he will simply let her rush ahead as he covers her. He can always bring up the reckless nature of it later, after all, when they aren't tired and growing exhausted from the back to back missions in the freezing, numbing cold.

"My gun is golden," Jane comms. "Kaidan? How's it looking?"

"Need to repair it… almost done."

_**Watch my back while I sprint across. I want that turret.** _

_Didn't know that's you call it._

_**How about you kill instead of joke, smart ass?** _

He chuckles as he lines up and fires at two Centurions that had taken notice of her unguarded sprint across the catwalk between the two towers that provided absolutely _no_ cover. She jumps into the turret and fires at what he thinks is his cover, but turns out to be Cerberus actually taking cover behind his perch, not knowing he was there. He sends a silent thanks to her for that, glad he doesn't see her smug expression.

"Done!" Kaidan's are punctuated by the sound of the AA guns firing, the fighters in the air starting to fall.

"Shepard! The guns are online! We're getting people out."

"Understood," Garrus says in the comm before getting out of his perch and waiting for the other two to come running.

Just as they're trying to get back to the shaft to take them down, a fighter comes down, slamming into the roof and sending them flying from one another. Garrus hits a piece of the vents hard enough that he feels it dent under the force of his body and he blacks out for what feels like only a few seconds.

What makes him, snaps him back into consciousness, is the sound of shouts in his comm, voices demanding 'Shepard' to move. Snapping up with a groan, he looks to her just as she's climbing up over a crate and helping Kaidan up.

A quick run through their connection shows that they're mostly okay, but then that same voice yells over the comm and gunfire surrounding them. "Shepard! Move your asses!"

Getting to their feet proves easier than it should, but he supposes that has a lot to do with the bullets flying by their heads as they run. That always seems to but a fire under their feet.

Jacob hangs out of the Normandy shuttle as he fires, covering them as Cerberus troops start running over the roof. Alenko is first on the shuttle, followed by Jane, then Garrus, but, just as his feet hit the metal of the cabin, his heightened senses pick up what is definitely not a good sound.

She screams before the man hits the ground, Brynn rushing to Jacob's side as Cortez starts pulling them from the scene. Jane slams the hatch shut as the woman sobs, holding a hand to Jacob's bleeding chest, but Garrus can tell there's no hope, this an injury that won't be easily fixed.

"D… damn." Taylor coughs up blood, looking at it bubbling up like he's never seen that color of red before. "Sorry… I won't… be around for… the baby…"

"No! No. Please." Brynn sobs as she pleads, rocking as she holds him to her when his eyelids' movements slow to a stop. Her wails are piercing, her breaths in gasps and hiccups, but there's not a damn thing any of them can do, not now and not ever.

Jacob Taylor is gone.

Jane lays a hand on Brynn's shoulder in comfort and Garrus looks up from the scene and to his mate's expression of concealed anger at yet one more life that will be lost to this war. To anyone else, her face would seem cold, uncaring in this time of one of their friends slowly losing his life, but her green eyes are burning.

She _will_ make this life lost count, one way or another. Of that, Garrus is certain.


	40. Chapter 40

-Jane-

 

“Rila!”

 

The pain and desperation in the asari girl's voice cuts deep, grates against the nerves and begs to go back, but there is no going back, no saving a woman lost to the Reapers.  

 

So they run, wailing Ardat-Yakshi thrown over Garrus’ shoulder as they all take the ascending stairs of the Great Hall two at a time, trying to outrun Rila’s grip on the detonator, her dying defiance.  The doors stand just before them, doors that lead out onto the large courtyard and the lake that laps at the banks.  

 

Their only hope is that it will be far enough to save them the worst of the blast.  Jane knows it'll still hurt, there is just not enough distance they can find with the strategic placement of the bomb, but their only other way was the lift and an elevator is the last place she'd want to be in an explosion.  If they die here, she doesn't want her last moments to be in a fucking lift.

 

The only thing that can drown out the girl's screams is the explosion, the blast wave trailing them as they run.  All Jane hears is the loud rumble just before it overtakes them, sending all five, she, her mate, Ashley, Samara, and her daughter, flying.  

 

Jane hits the surface of the water hard, knocking wind and senses out of her.  Quickly surfacing for air, she gasps and looks around for _him._

 

_Garrus!_

 

She'd scream his name, yell for him, but she already under the water diving frantically for him.  

 

_Answer me, you fuck!  Where are you?!_

 

He doesn't, probably unconscious from the weight of Falere hitting him as he hit the water.  Her blood goes cold as she swims, ignoring the burn in her lungs, willing to drown in search of him, and, finally, sees him by the glow of his visor.  

 

He's sinking fast, unconscious and probably drowning without knowing it.  Focusing her panic into action, she turns her body into a torpedo, diving fast to grab him by the chest plate.  

 

Kicking, trying to carry him to the surface, her hands work at his armor, knowing his seals too well to need to look as pieces of silver and blue sink below.  It makes it easier to rise, but all she can think of is getting _up_ , screaming all him all the time to _not die on me you fucking fuck!_

 

They break the surface with a gasp and she immediately pulls him to her chest, kicking and paddling to shore.  Ash and Samara run to help her bring him to solid ground, dragging him up into the grass as Falere cries from shock, all of them soaking wet and battered from the blast.

 

He isn't breathing and she has a life shattering moment of horror that _this_ , of all they have faced, will be _the_ moment, but it quickly gets pushed aside as her body acts without command, climbing onto him and starting chest compressions.  One, two, three, and then she's breathing in his mouth, crying in terror as she pleads with him.   _Oh God, don't leave me.  Please don't do this._

 

Three more compressions and she presses her quivering lips to his mouth, blowing all the air her lungs can hold.  She's almost to the point of passing out before water is coughed up into her mouth and she jerks back, quickly rolling him to his side as he chokes up lungfuls of the crystal clear fluids.  

 

It's the most amazing thing she's ever seen, the beast sight she could have ever been given, and she grins shamelessly as she pats his back.  Garrus coughs raggedly as more and more water falls from his mouth, but he's awake, _alive,_ and that's all that matters.

 

“Fuck me, Garrus… thought I lost you. “   _Never do that again._

 

**_Understood._** “You know me.  Have to… keep you on your toes,” he says weakly, voice strained from upheaving everything in his system, water and all.

 

The idea of potential loss just then makes her frown, needing to touch him as she cups his face and kisses his forehead.  It lasts longer than it probably should considering their situation and location, but those few seconds of feeling his wet plates under her lips slowly brings her back from the brink of despair.  

 

“Mother, please,” a voice sobs so desperately, broken, and they both break to see what’s happening.

 

At the sight of a gun, Jane is up immediately and moving towards the Justicar.  “What the hell are you doing?  That’s your daughter!”

 

Yet, instead of her initial thought, Samara doesn’t turn her weapon on her own kin, but herself, pressing the barrel to her temple.  “The Code demands that an Ardat-Yakshi cannot live outside a monastery that no longer exists,” she explains, stoic as she always has been.  “There is only one way to save Falere.  I am sorry.”

 

The Justicar looks to her daughter, the young girl’s hands out in silent plea that she hopes can move her mother more than her own words.  As her eyes are diverted, Jane begins to move, stalking towards the asari pair, to the woman blinded by her own damn Code and the impossible demands it puts on its followers.

 

“My daughters,” Samara says with a soft smile.  “You were all so much stronger than I believed-”

 

Jane is not close enough, not within range of the Justicar, but someone is, someone who sees her attempt and moves to finish it.  Quick as lightning, Ashley is there, grabbing and twisting the older woman’s wrist to break her hold on her weapon as she pins Samara’s arm behind her back.  

 

They all know the woman can easily break the move with her biotics, the possible broken wrist not something that would stop the Justicar from ‘carrying out the Code’, but she doesn’t, doesn’t do much beyond the slight struggle to get free.  Some part of her, Jane sees, must want an excuse to not have to kill her child and the Normandy crew is nothing if not inventive.

 

“Let me go.”

 

“Hold her, Williams,” Jane orders as she walks to the group, stepping between mother and daughter in case Samara should have a change of heart.  “This is insane, Samara.  Throwing your life away?”

 

“I won’t kill my last daughter!”

 

“You don’t have to!” Falere, a fierceness in her eyes that mirrors her own mother’s in the middle of battle, steps forward.  

 

Samara relaxes, giving Jane the feeling that the fight is over, that the Justicar is willing to listen, and gives Ashley a nod in order to release her.  She also steps aside as the young woman approaches them, explaining.

 

“I’ll stay here.  It’s my home, no matter what becomes of it.”

 

“Without a proper monastery-”

 

“I don’t need a _building_ to honor my own code.”  She scowls and looks out at the burning monastery, smoke billowing up into the sky.  Kneeling down, she picks up the pistol from the grass, saying, “And if the Reapers return, I promise they won’t take me alive.”

 

All eyes turn to the Justicar in hopes that this is the answer to the dilemma and even she takes a moment to think, to run through her extensive Code.  There is a still silence until she nods slightly, responding, “Then the Code permits you to stay, as you are.”

 

Falere closes the distance in something just before a run and hugs her mother, the gesture awkward at first before Samara softly returns it.  It’s not something that should be shared with the three soldiers that are partially responsible for destroying this place, so Jane does not linger, instead heading back to the shore of the lake.

 

Garrus hasn’t moved much beyond sitting up with his head between his knees where his arms are propped up and she still feels that twinge in her heart at the near… she doesn’t want to acknowledge more than that.  Going to him, she kneels at his side and rubs his back, his suit still wet and heavy on his plates.

 

“You going to be okay?”

 

“I’ll live.”  He rumbles and looks at the water, a bit of fear in his eyes that he hides well with a “That was one of my best armors…”

 

She can’t help it, she laughs and bumps against his side, leaning over to kiss his temple.  “Leave it to you to think about your armor.”

 

“And leave it to you to not mind that I’m _not_ in armor right now,” he responds with a flick of his mandible and teasing rumble.

 

She shrugs.  “You’re still in too much for my tastes.”  

 

Hearing his soft thrum, she leans close to meet his forehead touch as the red boots of the Justicar comes to them.  When she looks up, Samara offers her a hand up, which Jane then offers to Garrus, and she looks between the older woman and her daughter.  

 

“Are you staying here?  To help your daughter rebuild?”

 

“I will see that she is settled before going where I am most needed.  The Code demands that I take up arms to defend the innocent in this war.”  

 

She nods in understanding to that.  “I guess this means goodbye.”  

 

Samara nods as she clasps her hands behind her back.  “I will go to Thessia and prepare for the Reapers’ arrival.”

 

“Thessia is the only planet they haven’t yet taken,” Garrus says with a growl.  “Too many will be lost when they do because the asari has withdrawn themselves from the war effort.”

 

The Justicar merely nods, though Jane isn’t sure that’s just understanding and an ‘okay’ or if she’s just doing it for their benefit.  “For our friendship, I do hope that you do not let your actions reflect your personal views during this war.  For now, your actions have been… acceptable, within the dictates of the Code.  I simply request that they remain so.  It would be unfortunate to have to hunt the two of you down as my Code demands.”

 

“We don’t control what the Reapers do, Samara,” Jane responds, not liking the idea of being, of all things, _judged_ for things she isn’t even in control over or, hell, for _speaking her mind_?

 

“You have control over how you react.”

 

“And we will react however we think will win this war.”

 

“You misunderstand, Garrus,” Samara says as she looks to him.  “This is merely advice… but I do hope you consider it.”

 

Both Garrus and Jane open their mouths to speak when Cortez comes over their comms.  “Shepard?  Respond.  Are you alright?”

 

She frowns in confusion and responds, “What is it?  What’s wrong?”

 

“Whatever you did down there must have interfered with communications.  I couldn’t contact you to make sure you were okay.”

 

Garrus chuckles and says, “Just blowing up monasteries.”

 

“What?”

 

“Ignore him, Cortez.”  She gives a nod in goodbye as Samara turns and heads towards her daughter, walking for the monastery to pick up whatever pieces they can.  “We need a pick up.”

 

“Right, Commander.  I’ll just follow the smoke.”

 

They wait by the lake for the shuttle and she helps her still weak husband on and into a seat.  He gets a questioning look from Cortez at his lack of armor, but the pilot doesn’t ask questions, not with the look on the poor, exhausted turian’s face.  

 

“Hell of a save back there, Skipper.”

 

Jane chuckles and smirks.  “Couldn’t let my best sniper sink to the bottom like a rock, now could I?”

 

Garrus snorts and rumbles, giving her a glance.  “You keep me around for more than my sniping abilities.”

 

“O-kay.  That’s more than I want to know.”  Ashley chuckles and leans back in her seat, crossing her arms with a smirk.  “So, how long between you two?  You never said.”

 

“Since before that whole ‘kissing turians’ thing,” Jane responds with a smirk and watches the woman’s eyes widen in surprise with amusement.  “Why did you think I wasn’t against it?  Well, just against kissing _my_ turian.”  She relaxes in her own seat, rubbing her husband’s back as he still sits leaning on his knees, probably thanks to the ache he has to be feeling in his lungs.  “You should actually try it.”

 

“I’ll try to remember that,” she deadpans in response, getting a chuckle from the couple.

 

Jane chuckles and shakes her head as the shuttle starts to slow, drifting through the Normandy’s kinetic barrier.  “You have _no_ sense of adventure.”

 

“ _Shepard_.”  EDI contacts them through the comm on the shuttle, not even waiting for them to complete docking and get out.  The fact that she obviously had something important enough to justify such impatience doesn’t sit well and, already, Jane starts to prepare for the worst.  

 

“Report,” she commands, cutting through the trivialities.  If there’s something to be said, it better be spat out.

 

“ _The Reapers have taken possession of the Citadel._ ”

 

Her mouth drops open as Garrus trills and keens immediately, hand on her knee tightening.  “Dad… Sol…” he whispers as he jerks to a stand, rushing to the hatch and hitting it open.  Before she can even say something, tell him it’s okay, to hurry and call them, he’s jumping out of the shuttle and running to the lift.  “EDI!  Open a channel to the Citadel now!”

 

“Damn,” Ash says softly as she looks to the Commander with a sad frown.  

 

She doesn’t have the will to do anything but check on her mate, to hunt him down, but she _also_ needs to know just what the fuck has happened.  Rushing to the lift, she waits for it to return and waits the split moment for the others before she slams her fist on the command for the Crew Deck.

 

“EDI,” she barks, scowling at the metal doors of the elevator.  “What do we know?”

 

“ _When the Reapers entered the Widow system, all available ships were used to evacuate citizens of the Citadel.”_

 

“How many made it before the Reapers took control?”

 

There is a long pause that Jane knows is EDI’s moment to consider revealing the truth, the silence all too telling without exacts, and her hands fist tightly at the odds against Garrus’ family.  

 

“ _Less than thirty-three percent_.”

 

Williams and Cortez huff, air getting knocked from their lungs at _only thirty-three percent of thirteen point two **million**_ people making it off the Citadel, the rest being at the Reapers’ mercy, and Jane punches the wall in anger.   _Fucking damn them!  Why didn’t we expect this?!_

 

“Our men on the Citadel, can you contact them?  Did they make it off?”  She looks up to the intercom, hoping that there’s news, that those they know could all have the information - and the state of safety - they need.  

 

“ _Any attempts to comm them has been unsuccessful.”_

 

“I could be possible that the evacuation ships are just too crowded to get out a message?”  Cortez seems hopeful, but the deep frown on his features is answer to his own question.

 

“Do either of you have people you know on the Citadel?  Would they contact us?”

 

Ashley, the only person she knew who could, shakes her head.  “My sisters moved off the Citadel to a colony that hasn’t been hit yet.  We just thought it safer after Cerberus.”

 

The lift seems to slam open, the three rushing out and into the Mess where it seems every one of the crew stares with wide, fearful eyes at the news story playing before them.  Jane, knowing she needs information for Garrus, for his hopes, stays and tries to pay attention enough to listen even though her mind screams at her to rush to the Battery and, if he isn’t there, to their Cabin.

 

“ _This is Emily Wong_ ,” the report, her hair disheveled and thousands of moving bodies behind and bumping into her.  “ _The Reapers have attacked the Citadel.  I repeat, the Citadel is under Reaper control.  Oh God, there are so many people still here on the station… I don’t know what we’re supposed to do.”_

 

Jane, her mind working as Commander Shepard for this moment to try and combat the feeling of being pulled in two different directions by her duties, wants, and needs, looks for Tali in the crowd and finds her with her head in her hands by the Mess counter in the back.  Heading for her, Jane lays a hand on the quarian’s shoulder.

 

“Tali, I need your help.”

 

“Sh… Shepard?”  She sniffles and looks up, her eyes frowning.  “What can I do?”

 

“The quarians.  We need their liveships.”

 

Realization dawns in the young girl’s eyes and she quickly nods.  “We can transfer refugees from the warships to the liveships!  Maybe even get more people out!”

 

She nods and lays both hands on the girl’s shoulders.  “Speak to the Admiralty Board.   _Make_ them see the need for this or so help me-”

 

“I won’t let you down.”  Determined to complete this very vital task as quickly as she can, Tali rushes through the stunned crowd towards the lift to contact her people.

 

_“... It… It looks like the Citadel is closing.  All attempts to rescue people…  We’re trapped!”_ Emily Wong begins to sob uncontrollably before the feed cuts off abruptly.  

 

Gasps, soft crying, and murmurs pass through the collected crew and, though she understands their shock, fear, and pain, Jane knows now isn’t the time to break, to let this war get the best of them while practically dead in the sky.  Stepping forward, she climbs onto the table, getting their attention.

 

“This isn’t the end!  The Reapers have _not_ won, they’ve only given us more fuel.”  She points to the vidscreen playing static.  “Use this.  Fight from this.  Don’t let them think they’ve beaten us just because they take away what we treasure because they haven’t done anything but piss us off.  We are not defeated!  Our homes are not the stations or planets we live on, but the home we make for ourselves.  And we will continue to fight for that home!  For our freedom!”

 

Fear still lays in their eyes, but, over that, the will to fight shines through.  They will fight for not the homeplanets of their species or a land beneath their feet, but for their futures, for the ability to make their own ‘home’, wherever and whatever that may be.  The Reapers may have the strength of their numbers and advancements, but organics have a will to preserve something the Reapers will never experience for themselves, life.

 

“Traynor,” she commands as she hops down from the table, crew dispersing to return to their posts with a new sense of determination.  “I want you to work with EDI and Liara to open a channel, _any_ channel, with the ships and Citadel.  Do whatever you three can and get back to me.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.”  She salutes and rushes off towards the lift.  

 

“Liara.  I want to know everything you’re people can find about _why_ they want the Citadel and why _now_.  I have a feeling it might have something to do with Sovereign wanting it three years ago.”  

 

The asari nods and heads to her office, Glyph already hovering around her head.  Finally, she turns to EDI.  “I want you and Joker to get us to those ships.  We need to know if the Council is alive and try to learn of our teams on the station.  And get me Garrus’ location.”  The AI points up and Jane nods in understanding.  “Thanks.  Keep me posted on the crew.”

 

“I understand, Shepard.”

 

Nodding in dismissal, Jane rushes to the lift and waits impatiently for it to return from the constant usage from the crew.  Once in, she jabs her finger on the command for her cabin and paces the small compartment, finally letting herself panic.  

 

If he’s lost his family, she isn’t sure his condition in battle will be much beyond a rage and pain fueled rampage.  While good in some aspects, she knows him all too well to know that his mind best works in an odd state of calm, where he can calculate and predict outcomes at the speed of light.  Even as Archangel, he is always running scenarios in his mind, though he often reacts as his anger dictates.

 

As the doors swish open, she rushes into the Loft to the sound of his voice, panicked vocals.  “Dad?”  Static.  “Dad?!”

 

More static, then, “We’ve… it off, Garrus… helped by… friend…”

 

She sighs in relief before growing concerned by the sound of ‘friend’.  Why does she feels like there’s a ‘but’ in this situation?

 

“Who, dad?  Who was it?  Did they make it?”

 

“Drell… Make it… I’m sorry… fought crowd for us…”

 

Drell.  Fought the crowd.  There’s only one man who’d fight a crowd that they know of and she doesn’t like the sound of that.  Neither does Garrus from his low growl and questioning.  “Was it Krios?  Did his son get off?  Did Poe?”

 

“Hard… communications weak…”

 

“The others, dad!”

 

“Died… Here…”

 

He trills and looks over at her, obviously hearing her enter at some time during the conversation.  “Who… Just tell us who.”

 

“Thane… to protect son… our escape…”

 

Jane frowns at that, not needing to hear it all to know what’s being said.  Thane is gone, fought the panicked crowd so that Garrus’ family, Poe, and Kolyat could make it onto an evacuation ship before it was too late.  Her mate, too, frowns with a sober rumble as his dad repeats.

 

“... sorry, son…”

 

“He did whatever he could to save his family,” Jane says sadly.  “He went above and beyond to protect ours, as well.”

 

“And I won’t forget that,” Garrus promises with a deep rumble, looking up at her.  

 

She nods and leans to his Omni-Tool.  “Titus, send us your location if you can.  We’re on our way to see what aid we can offer.”

 

“...Ascension…”  The Tool pings with a message and her mate nods in assurance he got it.  “Be careful…”

 

Garrus closes the Tool with a growl and he fists his hands.  “The damn Reapers took the Citadel…”

 

Nodding, she takes his hands, helping ease them open.  “I’ve started working on getting whatever we can to figure out how to move forward.  With hope, the Council is on the Destiny Ascension.  It would cripple us if they went down.”

 

“Why the Citadel?  From Sovereign, the Citadel was simply a means to open the Relays.  Why take it once they’ve already entered nearly every colonized system?”  He frowns in confusion.  “First they sent Cerberus and, when they couldn’t capture the station through those pawns, they attacked it themselves.  It sounds more important than just being the key to the Relays.”  

 

She sighs in frustration and confusion, releasing his hands as she walks to the couch and falls onto it.  Head in her hands, she says, “I wish everything was easier than trying to figure out the _whys_ and _how do we kill its_.”

 

He chuckles weakly and sits beside her.  “Not everything can be solved so easily sometimes, Jane.”

 

Snorting, she leans against him in exhaustion.  “ _Everything_ can be solved with a bullet.”  Sobering up, she finds his hand.  “I thought I almost lost you down there.  When you went under-”

 

“You can never lose me,” he interrupts, kissing her.  “You can’t be the one to beat the Reapers and steal all the glory.”

 

She chuckles and gently tugs his mandible to pull him into a deeper kiss, really wanting to _show_ him how happy she is that he’s as stubborn as he is.  Only he could be the one turian to practically drown and come back because he _wants the last kill_.


	41. Chapter 41

-Garrus-

Their only logical destination was the Destiny Ascension, the supposedly best place to find any sort of government left from whoever managed to survive the mass evacuation from the Citadel. Of those, there wasn't many, but they were hearing news that the respective species were filling in the empty positions with their own chosen politicians and leaders. Not the usual procedure, but in this state, the people needed leaders more than they needed an absence while bureaucracy weighed choices down.

The real question was what this new rush to fill the gaps in the galactic political system meant for the higher powers. Specifically, the Councilors.

If something happened to them, in this war, it could mean a lot of innocent people can be misled. While it might not directly affect the Normandy this far into the war, those very people on the Destiny Ascension and other now-refugee ships could become victims of a political power struggle.

He supposes that's something that they will just have to come to when they reach the Destiny Ascension within the Parnitha System some ways from Thessia. Whether or not there is a new Council, or some sort of replacement until official Councilors are sworn in, doesn't matter, they still know their duty. No figurehead will change that.

"Come in slow to the Ascension," he says to Cortez as he receives a clearance from the massive ship. "Try to avoid the refugee ships."

"They're just drifting," Jane nearly whispers. "These people are fucking lost without the Citadel."

"It was safety to them," he agrees with a rumble, looking to her, both of them in full, imposing armor to better traverse the definite shoulder-to-shoulder mob that awaits them. "Do we know anything about the state of the Council?"

"EDI hasn't been able to get through completely, but the captain of the ship should know. She's willing to see us."

"We just have to manage the horde of refugees to get to her." Jane agrees with a nod and he sighs, shaking his head. "At least dad and Sol are already moving towards the docks to meet us. I don't think we'd ever find them otherwise."

"Think your dad will agree to join the Normandy?"

"He damn well better." He growls softly and looks to her. "I won't risk losing them again. This way, I know where they are."

"And if the Normandy is attacked?"

He snorts and smirks at her as they slow to dock. "You really think anything would survive attacking the Normandy?"

Chuckling, she nods in understanding agreement. "Leave it to the Normandy to be both the spearhead of the war _and_ the safest place to be." She sighs as the hatch pops open, glancing to loud sounds of voices and cries and patting Cortez on the shoulder. "Get out of here to make room for others once Garrus' family gets on. We'll contact you when we know something."

"Understood, Commander."

The two hop off the shuttle and immediately into the constant movement of people, elbowing their way through the tide with Garrus in the lead. Occasionally, he takes glances at the tracking on his visor to make sure they're on the right path to his dad and sister's location, the supposedly short distance seeming kilometers away with their struggle through the crowds.

When they reach his father's destination, his jaw drops at just _who_ they find waiting with his father and sister, a member of his own family he hasn't since, well, running away from him after Garrus threw him right off his own feet in front of his men. "Severus," he growls as they approach. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Ah, Praetor Vakarian-"

"Don't _Praetor_ me," he snaps at the man who is already bristling for a fight. "And answer my question."

"Is that an order, sir." His cousin growls low and Garrus steps forward, raising to his full height.

Clamping his mandibles to his jaw, he clicks slowly in threat and warning. He isn't in the mood for a, what does Jane call it, pissing contest? If he has to, he'll drop his relative just to speed up the process of getting his father and sister off this ship. "I do more than _order_ it."

" _Enough_!" Titus' deep voice cuts through the two, even some of the passing crowd startling at his no nonsense tone. "I will not have what little family I have left arguing like children."

"Spirits," Sol starts, looking between the fighting males. "What has even gotten _into_ you two? It was never this bad…"

"Garrus and his… _mate_ ," Garrus growls at the distasteful vocals attached to the words, "attacked me and prevented me from completing my mission."

His family looks to him, but Jane steps in. "First of all, you shouldn't insult me and expect me not to know those vocals," that shocks his cousin and Garrus smirks at the small victory of his wife defending herself when Severus thought she couldn't, "and, second, you deserved most of that beat down Garrus gave you because you're a glorified prick and twat all rolled into one."

His cousin jerks his head in surprise before growling low at her. "You speak out of turn, woman-"

Quick as he'd have done, she punches him in the waist, knocking the wind out of his lungs. "That's enough 'woman' talk from you. I have a name. Hell, I have _many_ names, but that is one only my close friends _or_ my worst enemies get to use. And you're not either of those."

"Jane, please." His father steps forward and lays a hand on both of their shoulders with a rumble. "Garrus, I know you two don't get along, but this is the least favorable time for these squabbles." He then gives a pointed look to his nephew, who drops his head respectively.

"Apologies, uncle." Sighing, Severus looks up to Garrus and says, not lacking in an undertone that speaks volumes of animosity that is held at bay by the older man's words. "I am here to escort an ambassador and potential Council candidate to the Destiny Ascension."

"Potential candidate?" Jane repeats with wide eyes. "Holy shit, did the Council not make it out?"

Severus shakes his head. "By all reports, they were lost during the Reaper attack. Right now, each species is transporting their own candidates to the Ascension."

"Who's the turian ambassador?" Garrus drops his anger to ask, wondering what this means not only for his people, but all of them. "How far down the line of political succession are they?"

"They're the Councilor's former advisor, Octavia Maxima."

He trills in surprise at that and watches Jane nearly choke on the air in her lungs. "Octavia? She was-"

"She rose tiers since you've last since her, I'm sure. As the head of Sparatus' military advisory board, she was on the Insurmountable orbiting the Citadel, coordinating our forces protecting the station… Forces they decimated before we all tried to save everyone we could instead of fight."

"Who gave that order?" Jane crosses her arms and lifts a brow.

"The Councilors. I think they knew they wouldn't get off if we fought and believed a retreat preferable in the situation."

"Which didn't help them," Jane adds and Severus shakes his head in agreement. "Do you know who the salarian, human, or asari Councilor candidates are?"

"No, but I'm sure Spectres like yourselves can learn more than I can tell you." He lifts a chin towards the far wall, where giant lifts are currently being cordoned off by a combined force of sparse C-Sec and asari commandos. "If anyone should have free access to the ship, it's you."

Garrus rumbles and looks to him. "Why aren't you allowed to protect our ambassador?"

"I am up until a point. I wasn't allowed in the hearing, so, when I heard that our family had just barely managed to make it off, I had to see if they were alright." Severus rumbles and looks Garrus' father and sister over. "Solana shouldn't be on her leg."

She narrows her eyes and growls. "I don't have the _luxury_ of crutches and a cast, Severus."

"Hate to say it, but he's right," Garrus agrees with his cousin, for once in his life. "Once you're on the Normandy, have Michel or Chakwas look at your leg and find a place to stay in the Observation Deck."

"You both will stay longer, I presume?" Severus asks and Jane nods. "I can show you how to get to the Conference Hall here on the ship. That should be where the hearings are taking place."

With a call to Cortez to order him back to docks, he relays the message back to his father and sister. "Head to Dock 348-B and don't wait up for us. Cortez will take you to the Normandy while we see what our next step is."

"Be careful down here. These people are scared and looking for answers, Garrus. That makes them dangerous."

"I know, dad. We will be," he says with a hum and nod before turning back to his mate and cousin. "Take us as far as you're able and we'll get through the rest of the way."

Severus leads them through the suffocating crowd of hurt, frightened refugees, and they almost lose him if not for the bright white of his armor. They manage to regroup at the lifts and, with a simple ID check and confirmation, head into the massive elevator that takes them deep into the Ascension.

His cousin is silent all the way until he breaks the silence with, "We may not get along, Garrus, but what you did for our people is to be commended." Rumbling, he looks over his shoulder to him. "I have seen what the Reapers have done to our home, but I know it'd be hundreds of times worse if not for what you had done to prepare us."

Scoffing, Garrus growls. "It wasn't enough."

"But it was," Jane interrupts. "Look at your numbers still fighting in this. You have the fleet forces to carry the brunt of the Crucible's escort."

"Crucible?" Severus frowns in confusion, looking between them with a questioning rumble.

Garrus nods and explains as the lift begins to slow. "A super weapon."

"And you think it'll work?"

"Have any other bright ass ideas?" Jane asks as she cocks her hips and crosses her arms.

"No, but, then again, I'm not the ones trying to lead this army you're building."

"Be glad," she retorts as they step out of the lift and towards the Conference Hall, hoping to get a grip on the situation, learn what they can about the upcoming state of the political backing to their war effort.

When they arrive, they are stopped by an asari guard. No amount of Spectre status will get through the 'no interruptions' demand, but it doesn't take long before their blockade stops and listens to a comm.

"Understood," the head commando, a pale blue woman with red facial paints, says to the unheard voice before motioning her women aside. "Right this way, Spectres. Councilor Irissa would like to speak to you. Sir," she addresses Severus, "You are requested to escort your own Councilor."

"Councilors? Just like that?" Jane narrows her eyes in confusion. "That was faster than expected."

"Most of the hearings have been done over QEC since the attack. This was mostly ceremony." She jerks her head in 'go in'.

Stepping through the doors, they are greeted with a massive room that seems to rise up into the ship, floors visible along the perimeter of the column so that the space isn't completely useless. Even then, this ship seems more a figurehead for asari structure and need of aesthetics than an actual warship, but Garrus is willing to admit he's wrong on account of the fact that he hasn't served any important position on a ship until just recently.

"Commander Shepard, Praetor Vakarian," an asari with intricate markings motions and elegant gown with a hand to approach. "I will not waste precious time with trivialities." Her eyes are cold as she examines them on their approach. "Matters concerning the asari republics have taken a serious turn."

_So the Reapers have finally taken hold of asari territory. About time they finally see that the war includes themselves as well._

"With all due respect, ma'am," Jane starts with a cross of her arm as she leans on a foot. "We're sorry to hear that, but we aren't at the point of retaliation. You're people need to ready themselves for the Reapers because they're coming for you next."

"I believe they've already come." The woman crosses her own arms, brows drawing down in clear irritation. "But we hear your Crucible is still mission a vital component. A Catalyst, I believe you call it?"

Garrus doesn't like the condescension, but he hates the game playing even less. "If you have something to say, say it."

"This is highly classified information, Spectres. I don't know if you're to be allowed to see it." Jane's face pulls in a frustrated frown as Garrus bites down his growl, the two willing to stay quiet while the woman plays them as she pleases. If it gets them what they need, then they can bite their remarks and irritation long enough for her to get bored and give it to them.

"There is an artifact on our homeworld, Thessia. Given the Crucible's origin, it may give you insight on the Catalyst." Relaxing, Councilor Irissa opens her Tool and sends coordinates to them. "The artifact is in a temple located at these coordinates. A scientific team will be there to assist as it's up the upmost importance that the temple _remain intact_."

"No promises," his mate says as she looks at her Omni-Tool before sending the information to the Normandy. "If that's all?"

The woman nods and motions behind them, a group of asari moving to escort them out. They go easily, not needing to be told that they are needed elsewhere. In fact, they can't get off this ship fast enough now that they know of their next target, their next aim in this war.

"Cortez," Jane calls ahead. "We need a shuttle to the Destiny Ascension as soon as possible. We have our next destination."

"Negative, Commander. It won't be that easy."

"What? Why not?"

"The docks are full from quarian liveship shuttles starting to transport refugees. I have to wait for a dock to reopen."

Both of them sighing, she calls back. "Understood. Keep us posted on your situation and location." Closing her comm, she looks to him. "I guess we should walk the deck and see if we can help anyone?"

He nods in agreement, not sure if there is any help that can be done, but willing to aid in any way they can. It certainly is better than pushing the crowds aside with what has to be a force that would leave scars thanks to their heavy armor, so he follows her as they step out of the massive elevator and onto the docking deck.

Most are out of their area of expertise, sobbing from lost or missing family or fear from the war, but, slowly, they start to find people to help. First, they find medigel dispensers that have been tampered with and repair them. It isn't so difficult and most of the work was simply removing or disconnecting a piece of machinery, but it's better that Garrus repair them as Jane would've only made it worse.

As they are heading closer to the actual docks, in hopes they might be able to help move along or control those trying to get onto the quarian transports, a figure bumps full force into him. He growls and grips the hooded figure, ready to demand they look where they're going or they're bound to get here. When he rips off the hood, however, his growls lowers angrily at who he finds beneath.

"Sidonis."

That name stops his mate in her tracks a few steps away and she spins with a shocked expression that soon turns into a glare at the scarred man's back. "What the fuck is he doing here?"

"G… Garrus?" Lantar trills and ducks his head, his half gone mandibles flapping in distress as he wiggles to get out of the hold. "Please… I didn't-"

"Answer her question," Garrus demands with a low, irritated ticking in his throat. "What. Are. You. Doing here?"

"I… I know I don't deserve to be here. Believe me, I know. But I have information that I _had_ to do something about."

"Explain."

He nods shakily and glances up before ducking his head back. "The volus ambassador, Din Korlack. He's working with Cerberus-"

Grabbing his shirt, Garrus picks up the smaller man and rumbles low in demand. "How do you know this? What makes you think we'd believe your lies?"

"B… because I have copies of his communications!" He trills and chirps submissively. "I… I took them."

Jane snorts. "And how the hell did you manage that?"

"No one suspects maintenance to overhear their conversations…"

"That still doesn't explain why you're here."

"I followed him and his men here… I have to do something, anything-"

Could it be? Is the coward trying to redeem himself? Not that one attempt would _ever_ absolve him, but it might make Garrus leave him alive after revealing himself to be a coward once again.

Shoving him to the ground, Garrus puts his booted foot right on his chest and pins him. "Send that information to us, now, and maybe I won't crush your sternum."

Sidonis nods rapidly and opens his own Tool, transferring the data. "Please, Garrus-"

"You don't get to call me that," he snaps, interrupting the man as he presses his foot harder with a snarl. "It's Archangel to you now, Sidonis."

Trilling fearfully, Lantar curls up the moment Garrus releases his foot. If he cared any for the man, he'd feel sympathy, but the pain is still too deep, the very evidence of their ruined alliance evident from the missing halves of the man's bare mandibles and Garrus' own twisted scars and interweaved cybernetics.

"This is pretty damning info, Garrus," Jane says as she closes her Tool. "And, apparently, your people are after him."

His head snaps to her. "What?"

"The turians have set a price on his head. My guess is your cousin might know of this."

Growling, he turns to Sidonis and kicks him. "Get out of my sight and stop skulking around with the refugees. Learn to be of some damn use besides wasting oxygen and food."

Keening in fear, the man clambers up and runs into the crowd, his vocals heard after he disappears. Once those too are gone from his senses, he turns to his mate. "You should go after Korlack while I try to intercept Severus."

She nods. "Good luck with that."

In an instant, she is gone within the crowd, her size easily letting her get lost amongst the much taller aliens. He can't dwell on it, though, as he rushes to the lift, impatiently waiting as it takes him higher and higher, from the slums of the cramped docks to the higher class' quarters.

It's almost as if he's stepped onto a different ship when he reaches his needed level and he hated the feeling, hates that these leaders, even now, have set themselves so far away from everyone else in this war. As if being on the same ship couldn't help convince them that this war is real.

He can't dwell on it, however, when he rushes through the halls in search of the, apparently, turian Councilor's chamber, banging heavily on the door. When there is no answer, but clearly readings from his visor, he bangs harder with a low growl. "Open the damn door!"

Shuffling and voices echo from inside as the door opens, his cousin scowling as he growls. "Spirits, Garrus. _What_?"

"Call off the hunters for ambassador Korlack."

"What?"

A growl comes from within as Octavia, _Councilor Octavia_ , moves into view, her eyes widening. "Garrus? What are you-"

"Call off the bounty on Din Korlack. He's not working for Cerberus, but killing him will destroy one of our colonies."

She looks him over before crossing her arms, her robes slightly askew, but Garrus doesn't question whatever they're doing, not behind closed doors and only if she'll listen. "I have proof. Killing him will kill many more of our people."

"He has to pay for what he's done," she says with a growl. "I won't disregard Sparatus' order."

"Then find another way. Imprison him, blackmail him, just don't get our people killed out of blind justice!" He growls at her, not knowing how she can still be so stupid and unthinking like she's always been, so firm in turian ideals to not see how to change.

"Watch your tone," Severus warns. "Your wife may have taught you that _defiance_ is beneficial, but Octavia ranks higher than you. Show respect."

"I will when she's not acting like an idiot."

She growls and shoves him, pointing a finger in his face. "That human has made you lose all respect for your people. If not me, show my predecessor some respect for his orders. I won't let you and her bully your way through everything. Ambassador Korlack will not get away with his betrayal."

"He won't," Garrus says as he swats her hand from his face with a scowl before opening his tool. "Jane? Have you found him?"

" _Yes… had to take down a few of your cousin's persistent men_." Severus growls before she adds. " _Nonlethal unfortunately_ ," she jokes. " _He won't tell me which colony… little bastard_."

Octavia snarls in aggravation. "This is not the time for jokes, you little _lupia_ -"

Not willing to take that insult aimed at his wife, over comm or otherwise, he grabs the Councilor by the neck and slams her up against the wall. Their old friendship means nothing, not when the woman can't even show enough respect to his own mate, and he says as much when he growls in threat to her.

"You will _not_ talk to her that way." He shifts and puts her between himself and Severus' now raised weapon. "Now, Jane… Do what you must to get the information."

" _Will do_ …"

There is loud shuffling and a grunt before her voice is distance and unintelligible. During that time, Garrus eyes his cousin, gauging and calculating the situation. He is more than confident he can avoid any fire should Severus pull the trigger, but he'd really rather not have to put his people in a state of needing to find a new Councilor so soon.

" _Aephus! The colony is Aephus._ " Octavia trills at that, her eyes going wide. She once had family there, so, by her reaction, it's safe to assume she still does. " _I managed to_ _ **convince**_ _Korlack into offering us more incentives to spare his life._ "

"Good work, Jane," he says as he addresses the two. "Call off the hunt. Either be the honorable turian and call it off after she got you the information or be a bareface and kill him anyway."

The woman struggles a bit under that word, ever the typical turian to take offence at even the _mention_ , but soon sighs, dropping her head. "Severus Vakarian, tell your men we are to bring Ambassador Din Korlack in for questioning and possible holding. They are not to harm him."

He pauses a bit in surprise before ducking his head in 'yes, ma'am' and moving to tend to his orders. At that, Garrus releases his former lover and friend. Once free, she looks him over with a hand on her neck.

"You'd kill a Councilor just because I insulted your mate?" She shakes her head in shock, mandibles fluttering. "I just… I can't understand that. It'd have gotten you killed."

"Maybe, but you should try being bonded and you'll understand. I'd do anything for her… and calling her a _lupia_ was uncalled for."

"She joked about our colony being threatened!"

He shrugs. "It's just her way."

Sighing, she winces at the ache in her neck before walking to her room, stopping at the door to glance back over her shoulder. "Still, don't _ever_ think about doing it again," she warns with a growl and closes the door, proof that any relation they may have had is long since gone.


	42. Chapter 42

-Jane-

"Get us inside the temple! Now!" She jerks a hand to the encrypted lock with a stern command to Liara and the woman nods, rushing to start to work on getting them access into the temple while Jane and Garrus fire into the incoming Reapers.

There numbers are thinning, but there's no telling what will come after them once they're in. Their only hope is that they will find a break in the Reaper forces to grab the artifact and get the fuck out before they are overwhelmed. Not that luck ever is on their side.

A Banshee screams and she shivers unconsciously, hating that sound since the monastery. Garrus gives her a questioning look and she nods in reassurance. _Just gives me the fucking creeps. I'm good._

**_Understood_ ** **.**

He growls as he moves just subtly to sight down the field and begin tracking and firing on the asari Reaper as it warps through the field towards their location. So far, he's been the one to bring down every single one of the horrific things - supporting biotics from her notwithstanding - but she's perfectly fine with that. She never wants to have those monstrosities close enough to need to use her own weapon, anyways.

"I got it! It's done!"

"Get your ass over here and drop these Husks, then!" Jane snaps out at Liara, who has, so far, made her greatly question the decision of bringing her to her homeworld.

To say she was taking the Reapers invasion of Thessia bad was a severe understatement. In fact, it was at the worst possible moments -in battle - that the woman's age was starting to show.

T'Soni was not only truly seeing the war as something that showed no mercy to any species, but she was starting to see it only as an attack against _her_ people and, while the resulting anger is beneficial in most instances, she was lashing out against, of all things, the Alliance. 'Perhaps the Alliance can provide air support next time,' were her words and damn it all if Jane didn't want to stop the woman and slap her right then and there.

Of course, Jane understands most of the outwardly hypocritical nature of the woman's distress - _Thessia is the_ _ **last**_ _homeworld hit, Liara. All this time your people could have been helping the war effort instead of bunkering down and trying to ride it out alone_ \- is mostly from her young age, but her growling mate is not so kind. Even now, she can feel the tension coming off him from Liara's passing remarks along the lines of putting Thessia now first in this war.

'It should be a fight for _all'_ , he had told her when they were running through the courtyard after taking down a pack of husks. 'Use the anger you feel here, but remember that it isn't Thessia we are fighting for, but the galaxy. You can always rebuild.'

That didn't seem to go over so well, however, and now the two were at a state where any word of her home that fell from her lips was met with a tight mandibled, irritated exhale. At least, Jane considers, they are fighting as if no arguments exist, which is just what they need in a time like this where a pack of Ravagers are cresting over the platforms below them.

One bursts under Garrus' Widow and she and Liara target the second, Jane turning a Marauder against it while the asari fires her modded ammunition into its grotesque, bulbous sack. With an assault from not only the three soldiers, but one of its own, the rachni creature falls and bursts into smaller, more disgusting things that make her skin crawl.

Those are easily taken care of, thankfully, with Liara's singularity while Garrus does a neat little magic trick of making the Marauder's head disappear. That break in oncoming forces gives them the chance they need to rush into the temple, stopping short when they see what's so important their very approach was defended to the point that their escorts were so heavily devastated.

Towering high in the high ceilinged temple, a glowing Prothean Beacon pulses with a low vibration that reverberates in Jane's temples.

"That… that's a Beacon," Liara whispers as they approach, her eyes wide in awe.

Garrus, at her side, narrows his eyes before his hands shift on his weapon. "Would explain asari superiority. Funny how your people established the law against hoarding Prothean tech while you had a Beacon right here without anyone knowing."

"That's not possible. My people… They wouldn't just keep this a secret…"

"Neither here nor there," Jane says as she steps forward, holding her hand out to, despite every fiber not wanting to, activate it. "But it'd have helped end this war a hell of a lot sooner."

The loud sound of engines and a bright light shining her shadow before her sends her spinning to face the intruder, her face pulling into a deep scowl at the silhouette that dares to have the audacity of showing his face here.

"Looking for something, Shepard?"

"Kai fucking Leng. Done licking your wounds from getting your sorry ass beat by a terminally ill man?" All three of them raise their weapons as they hear the sounds of a Banshee scream. "Shit."

In a flash of light glistening off his blade Leng is moving, diving behind a pillar and out of their fire just as a Brute rounds the corner of the entry, lumbering towards them with husks on its back. It isn't alone either, as batarian and turian husks are at its six, spreading out.

She and her team quickly dive into cover, she throwing one of Garrus' 'gifted' proximity mines as Liara throws a singularity to suck the Husks off the Brute's back. She has no idea where Kai Leng has run to, but can't do much more beyond keep an eye out for him trying to flank them while they have much more dangerous enemies closing in.

Brute weak and bleeding, Jane sends her newest ability into the fray, gaining control over it. With it under her sway, she watches as it thrashes and roars in the ever present pain of its existence, taking down nearly all of the group. It falls, however, to a Banshee, the thing screaming in pain as it dies, but she gains a problem all her own when a shadow moves and attacks.

She throws her weapon up in time to hear the blade scrape off the metal before she sends s kick into the air, damning her short legs and the other's jump away. With a flurry, the weapon comes back up and she ducks, sending a shockwave into Kai Leng's waist to send him flying.

Her victory is short lived with she hears her mate call out. **_Get down, Jane! Incoming Banshee fire!_**

Without thinking, she drops to the floor, but it's too late as the ball of energy dives after her. She groans in pain when it hits, feeling her barriers dissipate with a snap. There's no time to give her aching body a chance to rebuild her barriers gradually as she rolls and targets a Cannibal, knowing a good way to bring her barriers up in a short time.

 _High risk, high payout._ She thinks as she runs from her cover to another to keep the Banshee off her back. _Act first, think never_.

**_Don't you dare…_ **

"Too late," she says as she flares blue and charges, slamming into the batarian husk and replenishing her barriers from the impact that saps its energy. Whipping up her shotgun, she bashes the stock into its face and hears what's left of plates crack before she rolls out from under fire, sprinting full speed for cover behind an artifact's display.

 ** _We are definitely having a conversation about that_**.

 _Love you too_.

Sliding into cover behind both a pillar and display case, she's out of sight of most of the battle. That doesn't necessarily mean she is out of danger, though, as she doesn't expect the kick to her face from a black boot that sends her to her back with a thud and busted lip.

"Fuck," she spits as she rolls out of the way of the blade and hops to her feet. _Need backup. Kai Prick is here._

**_I'm on it._ **

She isn't sure how to take that, but doesn't have the chance to think on it as she hits the blade away with her shotgun once again, cringing at the scrape of metal and metal against her poor boomstick, and throws a punch that gets blocked by a forearm. Gun fire bounces off their barriers as they fight and she hears the gunship's weapons systems activating and powering on.

She knows she can't take a hit from the high powered weaponry, but something tells her that it isn't targeting her - because that would mean Leng would also take fire - so much as it's targeting _who_ is coming to help her.

Sprinting with his full speed to outrun the trailing gunship fire, Garrus has no option but to shoulder charge the man at the moment he least expects, when his blade it in a position of the least amount of damage to either him or herself. The blow sends Leng flying across the temple floor, right to the feet of the Reapers, but, as perfect example of her suspicion of their involvement, they completely avoid the man, stepping over him as their dwindling numbers continue to move in.

Celebration is short lived as Jane throws a Dominate into the crowd, her head pounded from the nonstop biotic use, and watches as a Banshee turns on its own. That gives her and Garrus a chance for cover as they drop down side by side, he removing his rifle from his back and extending it while she spits the blood from her lip out.

"Is Liara holed down?"

"She has cover." His reply is short as he pops out of cover to lay down fire, but informative enough to let her know their younger squadmate is in a safe position, most likely further from the fight than their questionable cover is.

When her Banshee sends its fist through the bloated belly of the other, Garrus rumbles beside her in intrigue before firing at the same location upon their own 'ally'. **_They go down with a torso shot. Avoid their heads._**

 _You_ _ **obviously**_ _have me confused for a sniper_. Yet, she listens and takes that as a note as her eyes catch movement down the field. _Shit. We got Cerberus movement_.

By that, she means Kai Leng has retreated, jumping onto that damn gunship that's now firing on them in the dwindling number of Reaper forces. She can't help cursing his cowardice as if she actually would care, but she can't dwell on it long as machine gun fire hits just where her head was a second before.

"Shit. We need to destroy that damn gunship."

" _I can provide cover for Garrus to take a shot?"_

Jane nods at Liara's idea and looks to her mate as she answers over the comm. "You and I got the Reapers. Garrus, drop that gunship."

Growling with a smirk, he waits for a break in the gunfire before positioning himself and taking two quick shots, ducking back down to reload as Jane and Liara throw biotics over the field to occupy and take down the remaining husks running or firing on them. At least, she thinks, they don't have to worry about the heavier Reaper weapons. _That'd be the shits_.

In the edge of her sight, she sees the gunship waver and go into a steep dive, has a moment of 'oh fuck', and thinks about how it's coming right for the temple just as her body reacts, yanking her down into cover. Both she and Garrus curl up against the other as the gunship spins out of control, crashing into a pillar not far from their position.

Heads snapping to the cracking ceiling in shock, they dive just as a large chunk comes down, slamming into where they had just been. The entire place is coming down and she rushes towards the artifact, needing the information on the Catalyst, escape coming after. Garrus is right behind her, growling in frustration and anger at the circumstances, but that's not what stops her.

No, what stops her is the form moving within the flames of the fallen ship.

_No fucking way in hell…_

Growling, her mate steps closer and in front of her just as _Kai Leng_ steps from the flames.

She's being generous is saying it's him, his body mostly cybernetics weaved into charred and angry red flesh. How he's still moving, she has no clue, but he is, and fast, as he charges them with a black stained blade.

Garrus blocks the blade with his arm, the armor's paint scraping off as the sword skids across the surface. **_Get the data!_**

She runs towards the artifact, jumping out of the way of a falling slab of concrete and coming up beside Liara as the woman frantically tries to make sense of the asari translation system connected to the Beacon.

"Shepard. I don't know… I can't find it!" She seems beyond words to vent her frustration and panic, but Jane understands as she tries to place her hand over the controls.

Her eyes widen when she finds a huge gap in the information, there only being one explanation. "Fuck!" Turning to Liara, she motions to get moving as the building keeps coming down. _Garrus, Cerberus has the data!_

**_Busy, Jane._ **

Attention snapping to him, she watches as he continues to dodge and deflect the weapon, his hits not affecting the man as there is less flesh and vital spots now with his 'upgrades' exposed. A punch makes the body move, but doesn't slow the returning swing of the deadly blade and her mate has only his armor and reflexes to combat biotics and blade.

Watching him gauge the situation over and over, she feels more than sees when he sees the weak spot and starts to calculate how to get to it. Whatever it is, she hopes he moves fast because this temple is barely holding together, knowing he doesn't see or notice it thanks to his central focus on hit, dodge and deflect before hitting again.

Then, it happens, the opening he was looking for, and Garrus moves, swinging high as Kai Leng goes low. With fingers bent into sharp claws - she assumes he removed his gloves at the last sign of a fight before, well, Kai Leng turned into some mechanical monster - he cuts through the man's throat in a spray of crimson. He doesn't come out completely unscathed, as she sees with horror, and stumbles back just as the ceiling above begins to fall.

_Garrus!_

She screams internally as she runs, his own instincts guiding him to begin running towards her. When the debris comes crashing down, it shatters the ground into massive pieces, she on one and he the other, collapsing into the abyss, one.

Reacting on impulse alone, she runs to the edge of her own platform and falls, slamming her chest onto the hard floor as she grabs his hand, stopping his fall with a grunt. Not caring about the strain on her body, she reaches down with her other arm and grips onto his armor and starts to help him get close enough to the edge to help pull himself up. Liara, too, is at her side in an instant, pulling on his other arm as they drag him up from the fall.

Once they have him up, she loops his arm over her shoulder and carries him. She can panic and stress about the blood coming from his waist once they get out of here and, instead, slaps on medigel to hold him over. The bleeding seems to still and he isn't starting to show any signs of shock, so she has high hopes that it will turn out to be just fodder for her worry instead of an actual life-or-death injury.

"Did we get it?" He asks as they stop safely outside of the temple, looking back to see it collapsing.

Frowning, she shakes her head. "Cerberus transferred the data before we arrived. The data was gone."

"Our only hope at getting a copy is gone," Liara adds quietly as she looks down into the deep cavern below. A deep frown creases her brow, but Jane has no words to say to a woman when she feels the same sort of disappointing loss.

"Fuck," is all she can say, all she feels in this moment of absolute failure.

Before, she could tell herself they had a hope to win because it was blind hope. Now that they know they were so close, only to lose it all like sand through their fingers, she feels a deep seeded anger deep within her that's greater than any despair.

They will still fight, the thought of not being able to actually defeat the Reapers now not going to stop her, and, even if she dies, she will die with her chin held up. She is done feeling lost and broken because all it does is ruin her sleep, affect her fight in the next day. Put those thoughts aside, she demands of herself, let yourself feel them, but only after your rage the fuels your fight.

"... _anyone on this frequency? This is Lieutenant Kurin. My squad is trapped!"_

Their comms filling with the panicked and fearful shouts of asari soldiers, with Liara desperately trying to answer their pleas for help, Jane and her mate stare up at the horizon, watching with detached sadness as more Reapers drop from the sky. One more planet has fallen to the Reapers.

Falling to her knees, Liara sobs. She is taking the loss worse than them, Jane knows, because she lived the idea that the war would never come to her planet and, while a naive thought, she doesn't blame the younger minded woman.

Having no words to soothe the woman, Jane comms ahead for a much needed pick-up. Until then, they can only look at the sight of destruction on the Horizon, of an enemy they now don't know how they're going to win against.

When Cortez brings in the shuttle, the Reaper forces being suspiciously quiet - though Jane figures the three of them aren't really much of a threat anymore thanks to their needed data taking a dive into the black abyss - Jane slowly helps her mate into the shuttle. Turning back to her third, she frowns when she sees Liara still on her knees, sobbing as she starts into the city.

She, then, goes to her and offers a hand. She won't bother assuring that they'll win this, won't try to make things better, but she offers, in this once gesture, to join them as they fight for their revenge. Even if it's merely fighting against an inevitable tide, what she offers, she believes, is better than this, than crying over the loss and leaving yourself undefended, ready for death.

It's hesitant at first, but Liara sniffles as she looks up to her, slowly taking her hand. Pulling her up, Jane lets the woman hold her hand as she walks her to the shuttle and helps her in, climbing in after and shutting the hatch.

* * *

 

"Dammit, I don't care how we do it, we _need_ the location of that data." She slams her fist on the display in the War Room, those in the room who hadn't seen the destruction on Thessia firsthand ducking their heads. "Anyone know how we can find it? Anyone?"

"Shepard," EDI says, deep in thought. "By tracking the communications transmitted through the Relay before the system went dark, we may be able to extrapolate the location that Kai Leng has sent the information we need by tracing the system Relays it bounced off of."

"How long will that take?"

"Considering the amount of comm traffic, I will need some time."

"Fucking perfect." She crosses her arms with a heavy sigh. "Liara, EDI, and Traynor. I want you three working on this, let me know if you need anyone else to weed through the distress comms to find this. Time is of the essence."

Traynor and EDI nod before Traynor rushes out to start what she specializes in, but Liara still seems lost in her despair, Jane not even sure she's heard. "Liara." The woman doesn't move, so she gives a sterner tone. "Liara T'Soni." Liara sniffles and looks up. "This is a war, Liara. You can't take every death personally or we'll never have the will to help those still left. Remember that."

"You think it will actually lead us somewhere?" The blue eyes search for a promise, a reassurance that Jane can't give.

"Any lead is a damn good once." She looks to the others. "Any word on the Destiny Ascension?"

EDI nods. "They have escaped the system before the Reapers arrived. They are moving to the Crucible."

"For safety or to help defend it?"

"They haven't said," Ashley explains. "Even when I asked as a Spectre, I got the run around. I think they're more paranoid about sleeper agents."

"Doesn't matter. A Council won't do us much good if we don't find the damn Catalyst." Dropping her arms, she scowls. "I want Cerberus' balls on a platter, so let's find them, get my Catalyst, and destroy the fucking Reapers." With a jerk of her head to the doors, she adds, "Dismissed."

She watches as her crew files out, heads down and minds elsewhere, until she's left with only one other, her mate and partner. "I don't know what we're supposed to do now…"

"We fight."

"No shit." She turns to face him, leaning a hip on the holographic projector. "I can't help but imagine how far into the fight we'd be if the asari had stepped in sooner. Hell, if they hadn't disobeyed their own damn laws and kept a fucking Beacon to themselves."

He growls and nods before sighing, arm going to his wound that, thankfully, wasn't bad enough to need immediate medical attention. "When we arrived, Liara confronted Javik. She is looking for someone to blame besides her own people, hopes to see fault in the Protheans for not preparing us." Leaning beside her, he shakes his head tiredly. "Protheans expected the asari to be the ones to break the cycle… and to think that they would have if not for damn politics."

She watches him rub his waist and drops a hand to his beside her. "We will get through this. And if we don't find this Catalyst-"

"We will still fight until the last man," he finishes with a nod, looking to her. "Don't you ever forget that, Jane. Thessia is just a planet. We can rebuild."

Smiling softly, she butts her head gently to his. "You sound like me."

"I picked up a few pointers along the way," he rumbles back, kissing her cheek softly.

With a tired sigh, she stands up. "I should check on the crew and you should see the doctors about that wound."

"It's not that bad." He reaches forward and grabs her wrist, stopping her exit. "And don't feel like you have to be the one to carry everyone's grief and despair. It's not like you haven't lost as much as they have."

"I can still be an ear for them."

He nods slowly in understanding and releases her, saying, "Just remember that you have something to shoulder _your_ burdens with."

Smiling, she goes to him and gives him a soft kiss in parting. "You bring your shield and I my sword."

Humming, he nods at the old agreement they have made, if not in so many words. It is an arrangement that they've created before this war, before ever serving together, and it is one that has no true designation for either, simply that one fights with the other at their back. He is her guard more than not, but there's no other she'd ever trust so completely to fight this war right beside her side.


	43. Chapter 43

-Jane-

She dreams the sky is falling down around her in flames and burning heat, but there is a hand in hers that doesn't let go, doesn't weaken its grip. That hand gives her an odd sense of calm she knows she shouldn't have at the end of the galaxy, at the end of _life,_ but it's there all the same.

Poetic, she supposes, and something about it gives her only a dull sense of fear, one that seems far away and almost insignificant. If death shall come, then let it only take her when she can no longer fight.

She isn't sure how long this dream world holds her or really of the transition between sleeping and wakefulness, the two breaths away from the other. One moment, she is hand and hand with the sense of peace and the next she feels the soft bed sheets beneath her, hears the soft bubbling of the empty tank, and smells the comforting scent of the one who shares her bed and her life.

Reaching out to his side of the bed with a sleep laden hand, she frowns when she feels nothing but the fading warmth of where he used to be. An eye cracks open and tells her much a same story, Garrus is not lying beside her.

She groans softly under her breath and leans up on her elbow, looking around the Loft. The only sign of where he could be is the dim light from the bathroom, only one of the lights turned on for use. The soft patter of water from the sink can be heard and, slowly, her sleep addled brain begins to understand.

"Garrus?" She softly calls out as she rolls completely, sitting and putting her bare feet on the cold floor with a shiver. "Need help?"

Of course she doesn't know how much help she'd be huddled over the sink beside him trying to wash one of their children, but isn't the point of it to ask? To offer to lighten the burden of holding a squirming baby while you try, futilely in many cases, to gently wash them in a sink not built for the task?

"Didn't think you'd be awake so early." His voice is calming from the far side of the room and it makes her smile to hear the warmth and love in his vocals it had taken so long to understand and read. "I didn't wake you did I?"

She knows the question he _wants_ to ask isn't so much 'who' woke her, but 'what' has her up so early and she loves and thanks him all the more for the tender care and concern he always gives her. Today, at least, she can smile and say with confidence that her sleep was not a fog filled, nightmarish one, but a oddly calming one that has done nothing but reaffirm her confidence that this war is not over until she either says so or she can no longer say much of anything.

"No," she says with a smile he cannot see and stands, starting to throw on some shorts and a tank, not knowing how much he's cared for the babies in the time he's been away and willing to help should he need it. "I actually sleep pretty good. I don't know why I woke up so early, just did."

"That's good. And it's not _too_ early. We've definitely had worse."

She'll give him that, definitely worse. Hell, _a lot_ worse if she wants to recall nearly every night she's had since they formed some sort of dream meld for when she is plagued by her nightmares.

"Agreed." Heading towards the crib, she finds their son drowsily gnawing on the blankets which really looks more like a weak attempt to pull it to his mouth before his eyes drift shut for longer than necessary for a blink.

She chuckles as she gently takes the blanket from his mouth and hands and picks him up, cradling him to her chest as she heads for the bathroom. By the slight dullness of his plates, he hasn't been bathed yet, so she can guess that Garrus hasn't been awake for too long, the task of feeding first _then_ bathing quite a long one considering he would have to do everything twice.

To confirm as much, she asks, "Have you been up long?"

"Not really," he says as the water turns off, she arriving at the threshold in time to see him wrap their daughter in a towel and hold her close, purring. "Just threw some clothes on, grabbed their food, fed and changed them, and now baths."

"That's actually quite a bit of work." She raises a brow in question and he shrugs.

"Had a call with Victus. He's on Palaven Standard and it's the middle of the day for them now." He hums as they switch places, she starting to undress Damocles. "I couldn't stall much longer so I… multitasked."

Then, he frowns and she knows all too well the meaning. As Praetor, he's being burdened more than any one of them should have to be. Mere years ago, their biggest responsibilities was successfully completing a mission, or for him a case, as efficiently as possible. When and where did it all change to them having to decide fates of their entire species?

"Want to talk about it?"

"I really should." He sighs and heads into the Loft to clothe their daughter, rubbing the towel against her now shining and smooth plates. "Where can I really start?" She knows that's not really for her, not really something to answer as she turns on the water in the sink. "The Primarch wanted me to help on one of the toughest calls I've ever had to make."

She cradles Damocles in her arm and starts to cup water with her open hand, pouring it over his body as she fills in the blanks. "Palaven?"

"Yeah." He sighs, the sound close as he returns with a clothed, clean baby. "He said our fleets are being decimated trying to hold Palaven. What was I to tell him?" Looking up, she watches as he stares off, distant, and shakes his head with a growl. "I _advised_ him to cease all offensive operations against the Reapers, save our fleets to defend the Crucible." Finally, he looks to her and she pauses to look at his face, seeing his concern. "What if I'm wrong?"

"You won't be," she assures, needing him to believe as she believes because, right now in this fucked up situation, belief is all they have until EDI can track that communication path. "You did the right thing. As fucked as it sounds, it all comes down to, what do you call it?"

"Ruthless calculus." He sighs, the sound making a growl in his throat as he nuzzles his chin over the top of their daughter's head, making her chirp happily. "I'm willing to take the consequences for this call should we _actually_ manage to survive this damn war. Whatever it takes."

"Speaking of consequences," she starts as she finishes up washing their son, pulling him into a towel to dry him as he grips onto her clothes with his tiny hands. "What happened down on Thessia, with the Beacon?"

"You mean actually finding one?" She nods and he rumbles in thought. "This could shatter the political field, Jane. And I don't know if that's what we need right now after we've already lost the previous Council."

"But it can't just be lost, forgotten." She narrows her eyes at the thought of the asari skirting their own laws and sees the same ire in his own, knowing it must upset him even more after spending _years_ trying to enforce all manner of other species' laws to the point of drowning in red tape. "I think we should consider what should happen if this war ever ends. _If_ we even survive."

"One thing at a time, Jane," he admonishes softly as he leads her into the seating area of the Loft where he's laid out clothes for Damocles that she immediately starts to put on. "We can think about what to do with the info when the time comes."

"I just can't stand it," she nearly growls. "Asari superiority was thought to just be because they reached the stars before other species, that is was something they were willing to pass on and share, but it is all a lie. They lied even to their own people because they _know_ they'd get into so much shit-"

"Trust me, Jane. I know." He growls and sits on the far end of the couch, rubbing Cassia's back in soothing circles to help assuage whatever his vocals might do to upset her. "They're corrupt. Look at Thessia now because they were too proud atop their throne. We could have had the Crucible complete and activated by now and saved billions of lives, no matter the species. And damn it, we might not have needed to lose even more if that Beacon could have been able to warn us, but we don't and never will know because it was kept locked away."

She sighs and climbs up to sit beside him on the couch, babies in their arms as her anger fades at another thought. "Garrus. What will we do if this lead on Cerberus doesn't pan out? What if all we have left to do is resist until there is no one left to fight the Reapers?"

"Then we fight until we can no longer go on." He shifts against her to lay his head on hers, purring soothingly. "I know I won't go willingly into the light, as humans say. I will fight and I know you, I know you will fight right there beside me."

She chuckles softly and smiles, he knowing her all too well. "You got it wrong, I will _lead_ while you cover the rear."

"It is a nice rear."

Snorting, she lets the warm feeling of having him beside her, of knowing she'll always have him there until the end - no matter how or when that end will come - before she frowns with a heavy exhale. "We need to consider the babies. What will we do with them if resistance is all that's left? Is there anywhere that will be safe?"

He waits a long minute before he speaks softly, his voice warm as he nuzzles his mandible in her hair. "We do what we've been doing. If fighting is our only option, then we will spend every second we can with them just like I will spend every moment with you. They can't take that away, even if it's just until we fall."

She nods, frown still drawing her brows down. Rubbing their son's small back in mindless circles, she adds, "And the safest place in the galaxy falling apart is with us, with family. Call me selfish, but I don't want to let them go when we might be so close to the end."

"It's not selfish. Only we can protect them to our dying breath. That's not selfish of us to want to be their mother and father until we no longer draw breath." Purring, he leans down and presses his forehead to hers, she pressing back without hesitation. "My father and sister will stay on, as well, and tend to them whenever we have to drop."

"Yeah. You're right," she agrees with a soft smile, no longer feeling the guilt of wanting her babies close during it all, and reaches up to kiss him. His warm purr as he gently nips her lips is the last reassurance she needs to melt those final traces of that thought and she finally pulls away once her body is bursting with warm from his kiss.

"I think I might take a shower before heading down to the Mess," she says as she stands and rocks Damocles in her arms, heading for the crib. "Want to join?"

"As if that should ever be a question you need to ask," he replies with a chuckle, following close behind to lay his bundle of sweet joy to bed.

Jane caresses each of their children's bellies, smiling at their soft chirps and purrs as they kick their feet. With Thessia fallen under the Reapers, something deep within her tells her that her time to savor these babies before whatever happens is now, in these small moments of tranquility with her loved ones. Though she doesn't like the feeling or the racing thoughts it brings, she will not hesitate to do as it warns, wanting to map out and feel each and every little thing about all three of her one true loves.

"Jane?"

She blinks as she comes out of it and looks to him. "Yeah?"

"Thought I lost you for a second," he says with a rumble of question that their children mimic, still learning their own species' vocal sounds. "You okay?"

Smiling, she nods and goes to him, taking his hand as she leans up on her toes to meet his mouth plates. "Yeah. Sorry. Lost in thought."

He returns the human gesture with a gently lap of his tongue across her lips before starting to pull her with him towards the bathroom. "Come on. You promised me a shower."

"That I did," she agrees with a chuckle, leaving the single light to illuminate the room as she undresses, he doing the same.

When their clothes fall to the ground, she frowns at the reminder of his close call from Thessia stretched across his abdomen, going over one of the thinner plates and down to cut into some of the soft hide at his belly. Luckily, Michel - who has actually backed off after quite some time of obvious mate claiming being directed her way - was able to stitch him up with barely an order to take it easy. Hell, she got a worse reprimand from Chakwas about overexerting her biotics.

Still, she has always, and will always, hated the sight of his blue blood, probably as much as he hates her red. She is more than impressed that he was able to do what she had wanting to do since the day she saw the Kai Leng bastard, but she's all for him not putting that close quarters combat training of his to use any time in the near future. _Talk about pot and kettle._

A gently hand cups her chin and raises her head to pull her eyes up to his crystal blues. "No more worrying. If I can't worry about your head, then you can't stare at my wound." Smirking, he release hers and growls. "Unless you're just trying to stare at my waist. If so, carry on."

She snorts and lays her hands on each side of said waist and runs her nails over the hide there, making him shiver and suck in air. "This waist?"

"No, my other one," he deadpans and takes her hands, backing up into the shower as he pulls her with him.

They fall into a comfortable quiet as the water turns on, a hot spray that soaks into her hair and runs off his plates in rivets, and she takes him in with hands and eyes, even using her lips on the edges of plates within her immediate reach. He isn't idle either, his own large hands running a bare tease of talons over her neck and shoulders, palms flat on her back as he pulls her close to scent her hair and neck.

This close to him, she can wrap her arms around his waist, hold him as he holds her with hands splayed on his intersecting plates and caressing aimless patterns onto his back. His low, thrumming purr vibrates through her, warms her and sends her into a near trance of bliss and peace, only thing on her mind right now the way he feels in her arms and she in his.

"In all my life," she whispers, breaking the silence. "I never thought I'd have someone like you. It doesn't matter what species you are or how we had to learn how to fit together, I am honored to call you my mate and my best friend. I'd never be able to do this or anything without you."

"Nor I without you, Jane." He purrs and steps back, cupping her chin. "What brought this on?"

She smiles and wraps her fingers around his wrist. "Nothing 'brought' it on, it's just something I've always had in my mind." Chuckling, she shrugs and removes his hand to link their fingers in that odd sort of way that just seems to work. "And, now that I think about it, a lot that's happened in our lives was because of the other. We just fit," she smirks and shows him their hands, "even when we're not supposed to."

"Oh, we fit perfectly, I think," he says with a hum and smirk that makes her snort.

"Smart ass." Pulling his hand, albeit maybe a bit rough given their 'romantic' shower, she tugs him down into a kiss, their tongues caressing and swirling softly before she pulls back with a thought and playful smirk of her own. "You know, our relationship is so great, it's even got a movie after it. _Fleet and Navy_."

"Jane, that's _horrible_." He makes a face that she starts to laugh at.

"It's true! I heard it during that casino gala." He groans at the memory of that whole ridiculous debacle and she chuckles, patting him on the chest. "If it's any consolation, it's apparently going to be from the same woman who did _Fleet and Flotilla_. I know it's your _favorite_."

"Oh no, you're not using my playlist against me," he remarks with a mock growl. "Just because I enjoyed the battle scenes in that movie doesn't mean the romance wasn't completely unrealistic and over the top."

"You still watched it."

"As did you."

"Doesn't count, I was forced into it by a highly trained tech expert and her boyfriend. I was outnumbered."

"Make all the excuses you want, but it wasn't _me_ who watched the musical version."

She rolls her eyes and playfully pouts, her lips tightening into a thin light before she exhales heavily. That only makes him chuckle with rumbling amusement as he cups her cheek to run his thumb over her nearly disappeared lips.

Playfully snapping at his finger, she mimics a growl. "Keep those fingers away unless you want to lose them, Vakarian."

"And you lose some teeth?" He shrugs and continues, talon tip teasing her bottom lip to make her shiver and making an all too different warmth wash over her. "You never really told me what else you did with the crew that day."

She shrugs and covers his hand to make him stop, not sure if sex in the shower is really the best decision considering his new _condition_. "Not much besides relaxing… Oh, time with EDI was _interesting._ " Smirking, she watches intrigue cross his features before she chuckles, starting at the beginning because, really, this needs to be a story.

"So, apparently, Joker thought that, in order to feel more human, EDI should have learned what it's like to 'be a girly-girl' and go shopping with his credit chit." She snorts and shrugs as she adds, "Why she thought _I'd_ be a good candidate for showing her that, I'll never know. I guess EDI just figured that, in her all watching way, since I had vagina, I was automatically the typical woman-"

"Big mistake."

She swats him in play at that as she chuckles. "Asshole. You want to hear or not?" Seeing his nod, she gives him that interruption and continues, barely able to hold back her chuckles. "So, apparently Traynor was going to go shopping for the rest of the day with her, but she wanted the first decisions of 'gifts' to come from me. So we're going through things she thinks will be good because she, being EDI, spied on them all."

He snorts and chuckles, knowing all too well how the AI can't seem to get the hang of determining when some things she sees should stay a secret between herself and the observed and when it's okay to speak of it. Motioning to continue, he smiles in anticipation.

So what is she to do but give him what he wants? Truth is, is he ready for it? Oh, she sure hopes so.

"Once she was satisfied, she tells me she has a gift for not just you or me, but for us both." Smirking, she steps back to look right in his face. "She got us a collar for you."

His head jerks in confusion and mandibles flap. "What? A collar for what?"

To explain, she goes for a mimicry of EDI. "'Shepard, I observed you damaging your uniform belt in order to create a 'collar' for Garrus during intercourse one night. After research, I have discovered something sufficient.'" At that, she snorts and laughs, remembering being handed a fetish collar from her ship.

"Wait…" She watches his mind work before understanding hits, eyes widening a moment before his mandibles flap to his jaw. "She got us a sex collar? Are you serious?"

"It's pretty nice too," she answers with a nod. "I think it'd suit you."

"You actually have it," he deadpans before shaking his head with a chuckle. "Of course you do."

"I can't wait until Joker looks at his credit statement and wonders what the hell EDI bought at a sex shop."

He barks a laugh at that and smiles. "And EDI'd probably explain-"

"In detail," they both say before laughing again.

"Well," he finally say as they compose themselves. "While not the shore leave gift I would have expected, I think it'd be in bad tastes not to at least try it."

Her smirk is slow as her eyes search his face, never expecting _that_. "No shit?" He shakes his head with a smirk and growl, ducking to lick along her neck. "Holy shit, Garrus. Hell yes I'll put a collar on you," she chuckles and tilts her head for him. "You animal, you."

He growls and picks her up, elbowing off the shower before carrying her into the Loft and towards the bed. She isn't idle as he moves, kissing along his neck as her hands run over his hide and plates, digging fingers in the thinner gaps. Each touch and pass of her mouth brings a soft thrum of arousal from him that makes her, in turn, hum softly at her own building excitement.

Obviously smelling her, he throws her onto the bed with a snarl and heated look down at her. "Where is it?"

She jerks her head to the small duffle of dirty clothes from the Citadel visit she's been too lazy to go through and get cleaned. On it immediately, he opens the bag and searches, the wait only raising her anticipation to the point that she's already panting and wriggling on the sheets.

Standing, he looks to her with a band of black in his hand and a dark hunger in his eyes. She stares right back as he takes the black leather around his neck and buckles the shining silver buckle, the gold band embedded in the collar glistening as it catches and bounces back light from the room.

As he returns, she squirms and reaches for him, but he slaps her hands away and kneels. Gripping her ankles, he pulls her across the bed and buries his head in her crotch, immediately shoving that long tongue into her folds.

She arches and moans, hand snapping to his fringe as he growls and laps at her inner walls. She can't help the urge to pull him even closer, hips unconsciously grinding against him for stimulation and _more, more, more._ He gives her that more when his hand presses down on her belly to hold her while his thumb circles her clit, sending sparks straight into her skull.

Looking down, she watches as his eyes snap to hers, staring straight into her own as his other arm moves in a telling sign of seeking his own pleasure. She can't blame him, the urge to use her own hands when she's down on him, and, in fact, the sight is a fucking amazing one, one she can never get over. It's so good that just the thought of his hand stroking over his own length sends her into a freefall, urged on by his tongue rubbing continuously over her g-spot.

" _Shepard_."

"Sh… Shit… Not now… EDI." She moans shamelessly as the all over tension starts to build in her body, her hands gripping onto his fringe as if she'll break without a hold on him.

" _Shepard. We've traced the communications-"_

She doesn't hear what the AI says as she cries out, throwing her head into the pillows as her walls constrict around his tongue. Hearing him release a growly moan as his tongue slows, she knows he's peaked with her, something that seems so in sync between them.

Both panting as he crawls up on the bed with her, laying over her with his head on her sweaty chest. It's apparently the time EDI needs, for she tries again.

" _The Cerberus communication has led to the Iera System before it is actively blocked. There is only one possibility of destination of the transmission within the system, Horizon."_

She snorts, breathlessly chuckling. "Full fucking circle…"

"Again," Garrus rumbles against her chest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know this is merely a fill chapter, but who's complaining over a bit of a break between the action?  Not me!  :D


	44. Chapter 44

\- Garrus -

Sanctuary, a place that was anything but.

Refugees fooled into thinking they were coming to a safe haven far from the Reaper war and the evil monsters hiding in the shadows were nothing but toys. If they weren't killed outright because they didn't fit a purpose, the poor fools were tortured, sent away, or turned into the very thing they were running away from.

It was all for what? Why, the deluded idea of, once again, controlling the Reapers.

Whatever control their experiments managed to yield must have been enough to break the subtle puppeteering between the human organization and the Reapers. Since they landed, signs were all over the facility of the battle between Cerberus and Reaper, corpses lying all over the lobbies and offices on their way to the main tower, where they hoped to find the data they needed that would lead them to Cerberus' central hub and, if luck were finally on their side, the Illusive Man.

Last Banshee falling to a screaming heap on the metal tiles, nanites within sending it to ash, Jane motions a quick 'move out' to himself and Javik, the three of them in file as they scan the area for any other Cerberus husks to emerge from the observatory offices. Her lack of patience between them stepping foot in and her fist slamming against the command says much to her mental state, but Garrus doesn't really blame her all that much.

It's only thanks to the need to be steady with his weapon that he has remained so calm. These people thought they were _safe_ and they were really just objects, instruments for Cerberus' twisted end game. Each turian he puts out of their misery here is another name he will carve into the Illusive Man's skull when they finally find him.

"This ends here," Jane says with a slight creak of her gloves as she grips her weapon tighter. "This fucker will pay for each and every refugee he tortured or outright murdered."

He growls in agreement as the doors open to a small office - the secretaries, if Garrus had to guess from the layout of human 'businesses', which this man seemed to be running this facility as. They are mere steps from their prey when the second, much more intricately designed, doors of Lawson's executive office swing open.

"Stop right there!" A male they've never seen before - Miranda's father is the best bet - holds the young Orianna, the relation with Miranda just as uncanny as the first time they say her, with an arm wrapped around her throat and weapon aimed at their former squadmate, her own weapon raised. "Nobody moves!"

Jane motions to lower their weapons, the three of them knowing they can pull a weapon or Miranda can pull the trigger faster than the unskilled man can even _think_ about it. Garrus knows this game, the mock control she's giving the man, and, since he knows her so well, this is when she's most dangerous.

"Commander Shepard. I was starting to expect you were the one destroying my facility, letting the experiments free."

Some of those very experiments cling to the window, crawling over it. Garrus isn't all that surprised that they missed quite a few with the size of this facility, but they're fortunate that there seems to be only a number of Husks and not the larger, more dangerous creatures that seemed to be in the lesser numbers here. _Probably too much effort to control them, so the bastard just killed them._

"Put her down, Lawson, and we can settle this peacefully."

"I don't think so. Orianna tried to shoot me! Miranda's poisonous influence, no doubt."

" _I_ won't miss," Miranda snarls as she scowls.

"How about we make a deal?" Jane steps forward, Lawson's attention not on the three of them long enough at a time to keep her in place. "You give us Orianna and the location of where you're sending Cerberus indoctrinated refugees and we'll let you go peacefully. I'm sure there's still a shuttle or two," she adds with a shrug. "Don't, and die by any one of us. I'll even let you pick that one. What's your choice?"

His hold must slack, his aim falter, as he contemplates his 'only way out' because that's when everything falls into place. In some silent conversation that Garrus sees, Miranda lowers her weapon, Jane flares a bright blue, and Orianna grabs her father's hand and bites down as hard as she can.

That single move forces Lawson to release his weapon instinctively, hold shifting so the young girl throws herself at her sister and out of the way. Grabbing at his injured hand, he doesn't see Jane move, charging full force into him and shoving them hard enough into the large window to send a burst of cracks all over its surface.

His mate grabs the man's throat and spins, slamming him onto one of the desks, his head hitting the surface with a loud thud. "You fucking piece of shit!" Another slam. "You tortured these fucking people!" Another. "I ought to shove you in one of those God damn tanks and watch you writhe!" Another and the man's eyes are having a hard time focusing, his grip on her hands loosening. "But I just don't have the fucking time."

Yanking him to face her, she sneers in his face. "Now tell me where the Illusive Man is hiding and I won't kill you."

"Cro… Cronos… Station."

"Where," she nearly growls, her hand flaring blue around his neck.

"Ana… dius…"

Smirking, Jane turns and throws him to the ground at their feet, Lawson coughing and swaying as he gets to hands and knees. "See? Was that so hard?" She looks up to Miranda as the man starts to get to his feet.

"I… I'm free to go?"

"Sure. I'm letting you go," she says as Miranda scowls and flares, instantly throwing her father biotically, through the window and plummeting to the lab below. Husks immediately fall upon him, using hands and teeth to rip and render flesh from bone, moaning and screaming. "No guarantees with Miranda," she adds as she looks over the edge towards the carnage. "Javik, those things are yours. Have fun."

The Prothean nods in thanks as he smirks and starts to fire biotics and weapons fire down on the husks, spending his always present rage for the Reapers on them as the others regroup. Garrus lets Jane check on the women's state as he heads to the large terminal in the room in search of a copy of data from the facility and whereabouts of the shipments, not immediately trusting Lawson and wanting assurance.

"Anything useful?" His mate asks from his side, the sound of gunfire ceasing in sign that Javik has completed his task. "Tell me there's something."

Rumbling, he sighs. "Research into what they were doing is gone… must have wiped it when he realized there were intruders, but I have access to basics. Shuttle departures and arrivals, Cerberus included. Should be easy enough for EDI to collaborate with what Lawson told us, see if he was just lying through his teeth."

She snorts and nods. "Used that one right." Patting him on the back, she hands him and OSD. "Get it and we'll take it with us. Miranda?" The woman in question raises a brow in question as they turn to her. "If we get the communication's block down, think you can send out the signal with your warning? I want the entire galaxy to know about this place."

She nods and goes to a terminal. "Shouldn't be too difficult. All blocks are from this central point…"

Above, all screens change into images of the facility, Miranda's words echoing from every source of audio. The central terminal shows they have open communications as they transmit the warning, it set to repeat continuously until someone risks this place to return and shut it down.

"Cortez?" Jane walks as she alerts the pilot. "Do we have an LZ in our area?"

" _Yes, Commander. Top of the building is a landing pad."_

"Be there. And let EDI know we'll be sending her data to go through to find us where Lawson was sending men to Cerberus."

_"Understood."_

_"_ Alright," she closes her tool and looks to Miranda. "You going with us?"

She shakes her head and holds her sister close. "I will take Orianna somewhere safe. I'm sure my father had plenty of private shuttles on his private shuttle pad."

"Cortez?" Jane steps away with a motion to the OSD. "We're done here. Time to get the hell out of this shit hole."

"Understood, Commander. I'm sending to coordinates for the LZ."

"Miranda, you coming?"

The raven haired woman shakes her head. "Not today, Shepard. I still have my shuttle and I'd like to get Orianna somewhere safe."

"I hear the quatrain liveships are staying out of the war," Garrus says as he places the OSD in his armor. "Crowded, but the safest place in this war now that the Citadel is under Reaper control."

She nods and looks to her sister. "Come on, Ori. Let's get out of this damn place."

* * *

When they arrive on the Normandy, Jane is immediately called into the Comm Room to speak with Hackett about the horrors they've seen and their intended move on Cerberus. Even though they need EDI to confirm Lawson's claims of Cerberus' main station being this Cronos Station, they all know their next destination is a move against the human terrorist group, to cut the three heads off the dog, as Jane had said.

Despite Jane just going to repeat whatever is said to him later, something they all know she'll do and is necessary, Garrus is all but barred from the conversation, sent to take care of the crew's building nerves. They all know that the end is drawing near, the one coming out of top still a giant question, and they all seem to be under a thick cloud of tension, so it falls on him to attempt to focus them while his mate plans with her Admiral.

EDI comes to him in the Main Battery with questions she means for Jane, but ones he answers all the same. Why, in the face of death, are prisoners to the Reapers defiant? To what end are they fighting, refusing to let another die for their gain?

"Because sometimes a war is not merely fought with gunfire," he says in explanation. "Sometimes being defiant in the face of evil is all we can do, no matter the outcome."

"But I do not understand."

"Then I'll ask you something that was once asked of us." He rumbles at the thought and glances at her, asking, "Is submission preferable to extinction?"

"My primary function is to preserve and defend… No." Lifting a brow plate, he stops his calibrations and turns completely to her as she seems to go through an internal change. "No, I disagree. I am going to modify my self-preservation code now."

He chuckles warmly and smiles. "Self-preservation does nothing when those you care about are lost. What makes us 'alive' isn't your coding or the fact that I'm organic, it's our sentience, our ability to feel."

She nods and crosses her arms behind her back. "I would risk non-functionality for those I care about, Garrus. Thank you."

He rumbles and nods in understanding as Jane enters the Battery, a look he can't quite decipher on her face. Looking to EDI, she gives a nod in greeting before asking, "EDI, can you give us some privacy?"

"Of course, Shepard." The AI gives a slight head tilt in parting before stepping from the Battery, leaving the two of them in a still silence, only the hum of the cannon as their company.

"I take it your debriefing with Hackett wasn't as you hoped," he says more than asks, starting to be able to understand her expression, deep in thought and about to say something that hurts her to think of.

"I think we're being unrealistic." Sighing, she puts her back against the wall, staring up at the cross beams in the ceiling. "Hackett's right. As soon as we move on Cerberus, the Reapers will be on our asses. It's a one way, no stop street from here on out, no matter what we find. Either we go in with a working Crucible, or we fight until we fall."

And our home is not as safe as we'd have wanted.

He hears what she doesn't say, can see the truth in their naive idea of all their yesterdays. Humming, he ducks his head and goes to her, pulling her into a hug that she seems to instantly fall into. "It's not safe here on the Normandy," he supplies.

She shakes her head against him. "We can't force our children to fight our battles. Even if we survive… What could happen to the Normandy without us?"

"We don't know," he answers without either of them needing to hear.

It was more than idiotic for them to ever imagine it would be right to keep their family aboard the Normandy. They were the forefront of the war and the 'symbol' of the resistance to the Reapers. He couldn't imagine what they'd do if they were planetside and the Normandy was lost, their children aboard because of their own stupid and arrogant selfishness.

"We… We have to let them go," she whispers with a tightening of her hands against his armor, a sound so much like a sniffle is hurts him to hear coming from her. "We have to let our babies go for their own safety."

He keens, chest hurting with the thought of being far from them for the first time since he was reunited with his mate on Menae. Holding onto her as tightly as she does him, he buries his face in her hair, the two quiet as they just hold the other, crying in their own species' way. This may be the very last thing they do for their children, to save them from the war, and it is the worst possible thing to have to talk themselves into believing.

He doesn't know how long they stand there clinging to the other, but his throat is sore from keens and her face red from the tears, breaths stopped up and hair a mess. Still, they feel no better, but matters must be dealt with, they must come to terms, and they have to do something better than cry in loss when they have this time to cherish.

So they head up to the Loft where his father and sister look after their children, alerting EDI from the lift to set course for the quarian liveships that will stay out of the war. When they arrive at the Loft, Sol and his father recognize their looks immediately and their chirps and singing rumbles cut out with a stutter.

"Garrus, Jane" Sol begins with a trill. "What's wrong?"

"We are moving on Cerberus soon." Jane sniffles through her stuffy nose and moves to sit on the couch beside his sister, head in her hands. "When we do, the Reapers will know… And the war will truly reach its peak."

"You mean you will try to deploy the Crucible." His dad hums and goes to him, offering their son in silent knowing of the reason for the keen Garrus can't quite clamp down.

He nods in both thanks and answer before saying, "Admiral Hackett will move all Fleets when the Normandy takes out the Cerberus main station. Our destination will be Earth."

"But not yours," Jane adds, looking up to Solana, then his father.

"What?" His sister trills and looks between the two, growling. "You can't just leave us behind!"

"They can, Solana. And they will," his dad assuages with a rumble before looking to him with a sympathetic lowering of his mandibles, humming deeply. "And we will hide their children while they fight."

His sister's eyes widen as her jaw drops. "You… You're leaving them too? But they're your babies…"

"That's why they'll be safest far from us," Jane says with a frown and holds her hands for Cassia, Sol not hesitating to coax the baby over with a sad keen. "The Normandy will be the number one target for the Reapers. We were stupid to think they'd be safe here." She huffs derisively. "We've been testing our shitty luck this entire time."

"Horrible parenting, 101," Garrus adds with self-criticizing humor, but stops his angry growl when his dad lays a hand on his shoulder.

"We often do stupid things when our children are involved."

"We can't continue to take the risk. So we're heading to the quarian liveships to drop you, Sol, our twins, and anyone on the crew that can't go on." Garrus rumbles and presses his forehead to his son's, clenching his eyes against the pain. "We won't… Force anyone to stay when they are not fit for duty under the conditions."

Solana keens softly, wrapping her arms around her torso as she looks to the ground. "I don't want to say goodbye. I like it here."

"Don't worry," Jane says as she smiles, Garrus wondering if the others see how it doesn't reach her pained, fearful eyes. "We'll be back for our babies, so you won't have to say anything."

His sister nods, perhaps understanding more than she lets on as she leans over and nuzzles her cheek to his wife's before smiling weakly. His father then looks to him and speaks softly, in a dialect Jane's translator is equipped for. "I know what this is and I am honored, Garrus."

"I wouldn't trust anyone else," he replies in the same tongue. "I trust you to care for our children when something happens to us. I know you will protect them with your life." Chuckling weakly, he adds, "Maybe not spoil them as much as Solana, though."

His dad rumbles and steps closer, laying a hand on Garrus' shoulder before leaning close to press mandibles to the other's. When they part, he speaks in Standard. "We'll leave you and Jane alone with them. You both deserve it completely uninterrupted."

His sister nods in agreement as she slowly gets to her feet. Walking past, she frowns with a slight trill of sadness, but doesn't push, leaving with their father. There will be a harder goodbye tomorrow, Garrus knows, but he can't do it tonight.

Tonight, he tries to memorize his children, to map every millimeter of their bodies. From every angle of every plate to the very textured of their infant hide, he will commit them to the best of his memory so that he can use theirs and his wife's image as his fire, his will to destroy every last one of the Reapers even if he needs to do it with his bare hands.

Soft cries pull him from his thoughts and he frowns immediately, going to his mate's side to soothe her. Sitting beside her, he presses his head to her neck, but can't stop the keen that returns, the flood of emotions returning.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I know it hurts."

She nods and lifts her head to look at him. "This may be the last time."

"I know." There's no point in empty platitudes, not when it would do nothing but waste his breath.

Turning to his son, a curious look on the little one's face, he tries a shaky smile before leaning down to nuzzle his chest and face, making the little infant purr and release loud and shrill chirps of happiness. That brings a real smile to his face, if still underlain with sadness, and he looks to his wife, seeing the human equivalent of the pained happiness.

Jane turns to their daughter and holds her up, using her plump lips to kiss over their daughter's face, their girl emitting the same happy sounds. Their joy helps to comfort them, the two little children so innocent and unknowing of the evils of the galaxy, and they slowly begin to warm up, intent on focusing on this night as one for just the four of them.

He stands and lays Damocles on the cushions beside her, slowly removing his armor and undersuit. Jane raises a brow, but he doesn't speak, simply taking Cassia and Damocles in his arms. With a motion of his chin to her and a rumble, he smiles in silent question.

"Oh. You want me to undress?" She blinks in surprise when he nods, but follows, being handing a purring son in reward.

Laying Cassia on the cushions of the couch, he purrs for her as he tries to remove her too loose clothes from her kicking feet. She trills happily when he chuckles at her unhelpfulness and hears Jane do the same as she shifts, doing the same to Damocles.

They manage to unclothe their children without further interruption and he leads her into the showers, turning the water to something quite cold for them, but perfect for their children. Jane understands immediately what he plans and smiles, leaning up to kiss him as she turns her back to the stray and steps in, letting the water run over her body and, as result, over Damocles' body as she holds him.

Garrus nudges her with a rumbling purr to switch places as his height will block more water and, when they finally get situated, they are pressed close, the water from his body flowing over the four of them. It's an idea he's had for some time, a way to bathe the children simultaneously while bonding even closer, so, to see it working, helps boost his spirit.

Plus, the happy look on his mate's face as she makes noises at their chirping babies is its own reward.

"This was a great idea," she says after they've had to adjust the water for the third time, each time running the 'warm' so long that it's gone cold. How long into the night that accounts for, he doesn't know, but it's long past the point where Jane's skin has gone through that change where it wrinkles up.

Chuckling, he nods and rubs Cassia's back, his daughter starting to fall asleep. "I don't think they agree with it being so cool."

She snorts. "Could be the few hours we've probably been here."

"Really think it's been that long?"

"Could be." She shrugs and cups Damocles' head to her shoulder. "This little one is already out. Cassia?"

"She's on her way," he answers with a rumble. "What do you say to letting them rest?"

He knows they will never part with their children until time they _have_ to tomorrow, so he isn't surprised when she nods and steps out of the shower. In fact, he follows her, stepping out and taking a towel to start drying their daughter and she dries their son.

Discarding the wet towels, they grab the small blanket Traynor had brought up the time she had challenged them to some game called 'chess' and head to the bed. They forgo clothing the babies, what Garrus has planned enough to keep them warmer than any clothes, and climb up on the bed, laying down side by side.

He's actually surprised when Jane opens the viewport overhead, sure she still hated the thing for the sheer fact that it's a horrible structure fall, but when he looks to her in question, she simply shrugs. _So it's no longer a topic of concern or irritation, it seems_.

Laying on their backs, side by side with the babies nestled on each of their chests and under the spread blanket, their warmth trapped within, he finds her hand and links their fingers. She squeezes back and it's all he needs right now, just her, their children, and the company they bring under the abundant stars.

"You know," she says with the softest voice, like a purr of her own. "For such a stupid idea, it's actually pretty."

"The viewport?"

"No, the bathroom," she retorts before looking over to him with a smile. "Yes, the viewport."

He looks to her too and rumbles. "Not as beautiful as the view looking in, I'd bet."

Chuckling, she squeezes his hand. "Brownie points to you for saving it."

"What points?"

"Nevermind," she says with a snort. "So not getting into human sayings tonight."

"Well, we're already going to be up all night, so what's the problem?"

"Garrus?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up," she requests with a smile pointed up at the stars.

Purring, he lowers his voice. "But I thought you liked it when I talked."

"Yeah, you. Explaining would be _me_ talking all night." She chuckles. "Big difference."

He smiles at how beautiful she looks, how peaceful despite the painful reality of this night, and thrums from deep in his chest, saying softly, "It wouldn't matter to me if you'd recite the entire Volus/Turian Compact, it's your company I like."

Chuckling warmly, she glances to him. "And yours as well. Though, I could settle for you reading it in that voice of yours."

"Again. Only wanting me for my voice or my body."

It doesn't matter what they chose to talk about, he really is at home in her company, the two of them beneath the passing stars and glowing of FTL, and neither is close to a sleep they don't plan on having. If this is to be their last day as a family, they will be damned if they don't enjoy even the simplest of moments.


	45. Chapter 45

-Jane-

This is it, when all their moves against Cerberus, and the Illusive Man's fuck-uppery to them in turn, comes to a white, angry head they can lance and finally cauterize away all remnants. This is where they shove their collective feet up the three headed dog's ass until it spits out their boots and that's exactly what Jane has come here, and will not forget, to do.

"Ready?" She looks to her companions, EDI and Garrus, before she holds her Omni-Tool to the last door in the private lab. The records they found throughout ring in her ears, but not so much as those connecting herself to everything.

'Upgrades'. They installed tech into her to revive her, into people to control them, and into the Illusive Man to grant him 'control'. She'd be stupid and ignorant of everything happening not to know what tech they spoke of, what was so _miraculous_ that they were all raving the best of reviews.

_So the suspicion of Reaper tech in me is true. Not that I didn't believe it after the twins…_

**_Jane. Focus._** She hears the urgent rumbling behind her and glances his way, seeing his narrow-eyed look that dares her to doubt. **_You're you and you're fighting the Reapers despite what they tried to do to you. That's more than any of these people can claim_**.

"You're right. You're right," she repeats before hitting the access to the door, it opening to a long hallway, its distance rising in an incline. "Let's move."

Weapon up, she advances at an alert canter, weapon swinging to take in the chamber like hall that the climbing ramp cuts through. She almost wonders if it's just for the visual effect of where, exactly, they are approaching - a type of 'throne deep within the belly of the beast' sort of concept - or if her mind and nerves are getting the best of her.

Whatever it is, she is ready, practically itching, to finally see the Illusive Bastard face to face before she kicks it in.

Stopping before the doors, she motions EDI to reach in and open as she and her mate cover. With AI quickly unleashing them with a whirring click and swish of doors, Jane steps in, the two at her back with all weapons drawn.

The room is huge, circular with an expansive view of the dying Anadius - and the ongoing loss of Cerberus' fleet it illuminates so proudly - that reflects and bounces off the black marble of the floors. Set in the exact center is a QEC communications station and, beyond that, a single chair sitting before a number of displays, data feeds from all over transmitting information to this very spot.

This very spot occupied by the one and only, the Illusive Prick himself.

"Shepard," that voice she's never quite heard in person says, a thin wisp of smoke from the tip of his cigarette. "I had expected you'd be at the forefront of the destruction of my station."

"I'll destroy more than that." Weapon raised, they slowly close in, taking cautious steps should there be a trap. _What am I saying? There's always a trap._

"Yes. I believe you would." Tapping out the cigarette in the ashtray, he stands and turns to them. "But you'd be wrong."

"What the fuck are you-"

The grinding, electrical interference sound EDI makes cuts her off, the mech falling to the ground in sparks and twitches. Whatever the hell happens to her, Jane can't ask as her own problems hit her with the full force of a Brute.

Something goes wrong within her, like a dagger that pierces straight through her skull and burns from the inside out. Her limbs tense and go numb, yet stiff and unmoving, as her chest tightens and stomach heaves without actually having the strength to retch up anything from within. When she hears her own mate groan in pain as his rifle falls from a dead hand, good one clutching his scarred face, it all becomes clear, realization of what's happening sinking in.

"You fuck… what are you… doing to us," she demands through clenched teeth, trying to will her finger to decompress the trigger. _Garrus… tell me you have a shot…_

But she knows he doesn't, that he can't fire a sniper rifle with no hearing or sight in his right side, a useless dominant hand, and who knows how much else lost thanks to whatever implanted cybernetics had to be used to save his life. Hell, with hers being built for her and embedded since before she was technically alive, this _should be easier for her, dammit._

_Why can't I just pull the damn trigger?!_

"As I told you, Shepard." The Illusive Man casually walks closer to them, revealing his cracked skin, those implants spoken of starting to burn through the skin the seemingly more force he is using on the two of them. "Destroying the Reapers would be the worst possible mistake we could ever make. It would leave humanity in ruins, ruin our chance at the kind of advancement we wouldn't have even begun to imagine. But if we control the Reapers, then that control is the means to survival, to the greatest renaissance the galaxy has ever seen."

"Humanity… that's all you ever think about." She starts the feel the wetness on her lip from her nose, feel it like tears, and affect her hearing as if listening through cotton, but she doesn't falter, continues to try and pull that trigger as he preaches. "Even we wouldn't be where we are without… alien influence."

"You're wrong, Shepard. Look at all we've accomplished in my own lifetime, advancement beyond what we've seen in the past fifty thousand years-"

"Because of the Protheans." She spits the blood from collecting in her mouth. "The Reapers will kill everyone… and you would leave them to it so long as it saved humanity… but I won't. We can't exist… in a vacuum."

Her hand trembles with the effort, his hold weakening as he scowls slightly. "You're wrong, Shepard. You're letting your affections and idealism blind you to the cold truth, not everyone will survive this war. I'm just making sure humanity is not one of those lost."

There it is, the stiffness loosening. The pain is still excruciating, but she might just be able to move, she just needs a little more. Yet, when she needs to push more, her lips won't move, her throat drier than Therum. _Fuck! I can't…_

"You have… already doomed them," her mate says, coughing up blood as his ear and eye bleeds, scowl on the half of his face that still moves. "By handing them… to the Reapers."

"I have not!" The Illusive Man spins to face Garrus, his rage burning in the implants under his skin, but it's all she needs, all the weakening in the hold she knows she's going to get.

Without hesitation, she pulls the trigger, firing her weapon with rage and victory over the control. The spike from her shotgun hits home, firing through the Illusive Man's throat mid-sentence and turning his words into a gurgling mess that splatters on her poor mate.

When the body falls, the hold breaks and she collapses, sucking air into burning lungs. She doesn't hear the sound of feet running to her, but feels when her turian mate pulls her up, leaning her against his side as he comms out. "Normandy, prep the MedBay immediately. Jane and I are hurt. EDI's… I think EDI's incapacitated."

" _My platform should be coming online shortly after you destroy the EMP charge. I can help you with Shepard if you help me."_

Nodding, he drags her with him as he goes to the haptic interface, searching. Whatever his does, Jane doesn't pay attention to, too drained to do much beyond cling to his side. One good thing, she realizes, is that they aren't bleeding from every orifice anymore and he has his right side's mobility back. That must mean whatever has happened can't be permanent, right?

EDI's body jerks when the apparent EMP is shut down, rising with a few shake offs that Jane is sure she's learned from the crew or vids. Coming to them, Garrus motions her to the interface with the order of, "See if you can get us that VI. Cerberus has to have it here somewhere."

"Understood."

"So," Jane says weakly to try and lighten the mood. "You got a little something here," she motions the right side of her face.

"You got a little something here," he replies with a motions to his _entire_ face.

Chuckling weakly, she looks up just as a flickering image of the Prothean VI appears. "Finally, some answers."

" _Online. Security breach detected._ "

"Skip the protocols and tell us what the Catalyst is," she says with a scowl, not in the mood to struggle with a VI's specific enquiry type programming. She's dealt with way too many of those to have any patience, knowing it's not like she can insult it for not hearing its whole purpose and life story.

_"Security protocols have been overridden. I will comply. The Catalyst enhances dark energy transmissions and coordinates the entire mass relay networks. In your cycle, it is known as the Citadel."_

"Holy fuck… and they have the damn thing." Her fist clenches at her side as she spits out another, "Fuck!"

"Shepard. We may be able to bring the Crucible to the Catalyst and find a way to then use them together."

"Where is the Crucible now, EDI?" Garrus rumbles and helps shift their weight to a more comfortable position given their armors.

"It is in the Sol System, where their numbers are greatest."

" _The Reaper forces will now consolidate power around the Catalyst and protect it at all costs_ ," The VI announces, obviously something like this having happened in its cycle. " _The odds of accessing it are remote."_

"We have no choice. I won't just bend over and take it without a fight." Looking to EDI, she motions the VI with her free hand. "We're taking this with us. The Crucible team needs any information this thing still has in it."

"On it," The AI alerts as she rushes to the terminal, starting to copy the VI's data to the Normandy's systems. "Transfer successful. Shepard, I suggest we find our way back to the shuttle for extraction."

* * *

" _We will be arriving within the Sol System at 0300, Shepard_."

"Understood," Jane says as Michel gives her a nod in 'all done' after her examination. "Alert the ground crew that they are to report to the Mess." Lowering her voice, she grabs her undersuit and pulls it back on. "We all need a meal in our stomachs for this fight."

The doctor waits until the click of the intercom before looking to her. "Your condition is much like Garrus'. Rest would be preferable, but given where we're going, that won't be an option."

"Is there any actual damage or just soreness?"

"No damage." She is handed two pills for pain and a bottle of water. "Your cybernetics do not show signs of displacement or rejection, so you should not have lasting effects. I'm afraid all I can do for the pain are pain killers."

Downing them, then the water, Jane shrugs. "Don't worry about it. When the adrenaline kicks in and we're on the ground, pain will be the last thing on my mind. If you say I can still move and function, then that's good for me. Garrus too?"

"Yes. He was less affected than yourself and you don't need to worry about the usage of his arm or his eyesight." The woman stops her from leaving with a hand on her arm. "I wanted to apologize about my actions before. Even after I knew Garrus and you were in a serious relationship, I tried to pursue-"

"Don't worry about it," she interrupts with a pat on the hand stopping her. "Water under the bridge and not something to worry about after all the shit that's about to happen."

"But-"

"Make it up to me by caring for my crew while the rest of us are on the ground. While not in the direct fight, the Normandy will take hits." _And stop fucking bothering me with petty shit like jealously and love triangles when I might very well die in a few hours._

The woman nod and finally lets her go, leaning back into her seat with a weak smile. Perhaps Michel was never one meant for a warship, but there's always the hope that she can rise to the occasion by Chakwas' side. Either way, she had better take care to do _something_ for the crew they'll leave behind or Jane will find a way to kick her ass from Earth's surface.

Earth. What a fucked up sort of way to come full circle, back to the very beginning for her.

Born in a shithole city on a too crowded planet to a bitch of a mother to grow up to be a fucking druggie just like her own blood that only shaped up her life thanks to a kick in the ass that came from watching a good friend go before her eyes to the very sand she was using. That kick in the ass then turned into a mundane career in the Alliance that lead her through the painful discovery of her biotics and subsequent implant surgeries and the mission that went to hell too fast and left her fucked up in the head and supposedly made her some kind of damn star soldier. That false recognition sent her to N-training, which got her the attention of the poor bastard Nihlus, that ended up leading her on a hunt for a rogue Spectre and said Spectre was really under the control of some hyper advanced synthetics. Now, as the apparent first one to make a show about listening to her rants about these Reapers, she leads a massive army _back_ to Earth.

 _What a fucking mess_ , she thinks as she walks out of the Bay and towards the lift, needing to check up on her armor and weapons before letting herself catch a breath. Not able to see a clock during her exam, she doesn't know how long her mate has had to work on his own equipment, so there's no clue if he's taken to doing hers out of that stubborn want to do everything.

While it's sweet and admirable that he'd do such a thing, sometimes she wishes he'd allow himself some rest and chances to relax. Perhaps, she considers, it _is_ his way of relaxing, to occupy his mind with a menial task.

"Hey," he greets with a rumble as he cleans her chest plate, his own tended to armor and weapons already laid out on the table in a neat line. "Thought you might be up after that ship-wide request."

She nods and sits down beside him, starting to disassemble her shotgun for a cleaning before mess. "I thought we should all have a shared meal one last time."

"It won't be the last time, Jane."

"I like to think so, but even you don't entirely believe it." Oiling up a rag, she gives him a pointed look.

His sigh is agreement enough, but he confirms it when he says, "You're right. We might not survive this attack on Earth. May not survive even if we manage to destroy the Reapers." Shrugging, he sets her armor aside and starts to help with her weapon. "But we could both be pleasantly surprised and come out in decent shape."

"Not perfect condition?" She asks with a friendly smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"I think our mint condition status went out the window after these and these." He motions first his face, then to the healing cut on her lip thanks to that kick in the face from Kai Leng. "But I just think that gives us a more 'lived in' feel."

She chuckles and kisses his hand before falling silent to finish up her work. Once clean, she slides the pieces back together and sets the weapon down beside her clean, if more than a bit scuffed and scratched, armor. "I think it's time we head down to the Mess. Wouldn't want to keep them waiting."

Her mate nods as he stands and offers a hand. Stopping in the bathroom for a quick wash, they walk out hand in hand to the lift to ride it down to the already full deck.

Everyone from their ground crew is in attendance, even Javik which surprises everyone there except maybe James, and a plate of quickly thrown together rations is placed into each of their hands, one levo for her and the other dextro for him. Though able to eat both, they keep it simple and accept the food with grateful nods and smiles as they find a seat at the crowded table.

"Well," she starts as she raises her bottle of water. "Since we're all here. This goes to the Normandy ground crew. Probably our last shared dinner with each other and one thrown haphazardly together, but one all the same. So, to you guys."

Grins all around as bottles of water or energy drink are raised in toast, soft cheers of agreement and acknowledgement going around the table. Vega is first to break the silence as he shoves some food in his mouth and starts to speak around it.

"Tell meef, Lofa. How'd you life shoofing Illufive Man in the fafe?"

Garrus trills as the other aliens blink in confusion except Javik, who, since touching them, understands each and every one of their languages without the use of the sometimes glitchy translators. Jane can only _imagine_ how said translators butchered the attempt at speech the Lieutenant just made.

Ash rolls her eyes as she points a fork over to them. "I bet it felt damn good finally putting a bullet through his eyes."

Jane chuckles. "Well, it was a spike and it went through his throat, but that's about right. It felt fucking amazing to finally put that bastard down. Ever since being forced to work for that asshole, I've been trying to find a way to shoot him."

"I'm sure every quarian would have paid for that chance too," The young Ilden says, looking to Tali and she nods in emphatic agreement.

"Having to do anything related to that bosh'tet was a nightmare. I still think laugh at you and Garrus shoving his nose in the destroyed Collector base."

Garrus snorts derisively and growls. "For whatever good that did. He had that damn thing hung up like a damn trophy, using it's tech on his people."

"That's… I still can't believe it." Kaidan shakes his head as he bites into a piece of ration, something brown and gravy covered - not that that pinpoints anything specific.

"Fucfing baffard." Jane swallows and grins. "Alright, who wants to relive Cerberus fuck ups? Perhaps we can fill in those sorry fools about the glory days?"

Liara is the first to chuckle, thinking back. "I will always remember how you freed me with a massive drill that started the collapse of an entire Prothean ruin. Always one of my favorites."

"You destroyed one of my people's structures?" Javik's eyes narrow at her, but she simply shrugs.

"Perhaps make them stronger."

"We planned for Reapers to destroy it, not you, Commander. I have seen more destruction in your path than should be possible."

They laugh at that, the Prothean looking around the room in confusion. True, she has destroyed more than her fair share, but is she supposed to stop that when they shoot at her first?

"There was this one time the Alliance sent us to grab that communications module-"

Kaidan interrupts Garrus with a groan, burying his head in one of his palms. "Can we not bring that one up?"

Jane snorts and says around her drink with a smirk at her mate, knowing he was aiming to make the Major uncomfortable while ignoring his own mishap on that planet. "I like the part about the monkey shit."

"Monkey what now?" James perks up. "Oh, now you gotta tell!"

They must spend hours into the night, talking of past missions, both with each other and those they hadn't yet shared amongst themselves. It feels good to imagine this night like any other, the entire group just sharing one of her mandatory meals together and chatting over nothing and everything. They may all be dead in a handful of hours, or a combination, but they have this moment to liven their spirits, to remember what it is they fight for.

When it grows time to let the other rest, still a couple of hours before they reach the system and Earth, she takes her mate up to their cabin. Their time alone is quiet as they slowly pull themselves out of their undersuits to get some rest of their own.

"It's so quiet without them," she says with a somber motion towards the abandoned crib, there not enough room on the liveship but for a small carrier and bag of their supplies. "I miss them already and it's been less than twenty-four hours."

He comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her with a steady, deep purr. "I know. I miss them too."

Turning in his arms, she smiles and cups his face in her hands. "With one more name marked off the list, I'm ready for the biggest," she says as she looks over to the viewport. "I want the Reapers' metaphorical heads to roll."

"And they will," he assures with a growl as he covers a hand with his own, the other taking her chin to make her look at him. "But that isn't something I want you thinking about right now." Her expression softens as she looks over his face, hearing his thrumming purr as he leans forward to press their foreheads together. "Right now is for us."

"Before the end," she agrees as she leans up and kisses him.

She remembers how their first kiss was a bit awkward, heated but sloppy and uncoordinated, and his tongue still sends the same sparks through her, though now to a more extreme extent thanks to his learned skills with what that muscle can do. Things like that curling around and tugging he's doing now as he cups his hands under her buttocks and lifts her, guiding her legs around his waist.

His hide may be more scarred than when they first saw the other unclothed, his plates more jagged around scars and broken on his right side, but his angles are as sharp and statuesque as the first time she's drawn him, as her memories serve. Each mark and blemish is a testament to a strength she's always known he's had, a strength in body and mind that sends warmth into and through her.

Laying them down, he looks down to her with those beautiful blue eyes and smiles, purring deeply as he links his fingers with hers in a way that they've had years to perfect, to have become more comfortable than ever could be with their own species. She smiles too as she leans up and kisses along his throat, delighting in the way his steady vocals vibrate through her lips and against her tongue.

When he enters her, it's just as new and pleasurable as the first time, the feeling of being parted and stretched more like coming home than coming apart in ecstasy. His body heat he shares with her as their different shapes and feels combine outside and within, his body pressed to and into hers. Each time he moves is like losing something vital, only to regain it a moment after and feeling the bliss of that return.

As she reaches her completion, he continues to look into her eyes, purrs for her as he presses as close as they can be and joins them together. He tries to pull them to their sides, but she doesn't let him, doesn't want to lose that comforting heat, touch, and weight of him above her, so he stays. His purrs and seemingly sense hums are music in her ears as she relaxes, closing her eyes to rest.

Come what may with the Reapers, she is at peace in the now beneath her true love, her universe, and she fights not for Earth, but for him for the family they have made and lost in order to protect.


	46. Chapter 46

-Garrus-

He heard Hackett's speech. Literally the entire galaxy heard it and, while inspirational, Garrus knew it was going to take a lot more than meaningful words and willpower to win this war. So many of them were not going to make this, that was a certainty, and all they could really do was make sure that death was more beneficial than a detriment.

The entire Normandy, too, knows the severity of this final push as the entire ground crew suits up, checking and rechecking weapons. This isn't the first time they have walked into a 'suicide mission', but even the air is different, more still, and Garrus can almost envision that heavy and foreboding fog that Jane dreams of settling over the cargo bay as they prepare.

When they feel the jump under their feet of the sign of their traverse through the Relay, everyone goes still, listening and waiting for any indication of what's happening outside this very hull. Before they even reach Earth, a battle is taking place as the fleets buy them a path through the Reapers' very own fleet.

He closes his eyes as he holds his anticipation of a blast that would find the Normandy, a blast that doesn't come. Knowing they have the best stealth drive in this galaxy doesn't assuage his expectations of being torn apart like the first Normandy, but his pessimism does lessen, makes way for his adrenaline and control, when he sees the lift drop and his wife step out.

She storms into the bay, shouting over the sounds of creaking armors and firing shuttle engines. "Everyone! Shut your mouths and listen up!" The crew circles around, surrounding her to catch her orders. "Garrus and James. You're with me. Engineering team and Liara, you're staying on the Normandy-"

"But Shepard," Liara tries to protest, but she's cut off.

"I need information coming through. Use your network to coordinate the Shadow Broker's fleet with the others and scan transmissions for anything that might help Hackett. Take care of my ship while I'm gone." Watching the woman nod, Jane gives a curt nod before turning to the others. "Javik, Ash, Kaidan, and EDI will be on the second shuttle and part of Hammer. Once we clear the Hades cannons, we'll have an open path to the Forward Operations Base. For now, stay low and out of the Hades' eye. Understood?"

Nods pass all around, some shaking off their limbs to get used to the weight of their armors and weapons. Looking over to him, Jane smirks and takes her weapons off the bench. "Ready for this?"

"Right behind you," he responds with a growl as James hands her her helmet.

"Damn right, Lola. Let's give them hell!"

"Joker." She calls as they head for and into the shuttle, the second team getting into their own. "Start our descent. Team Beta, get your asses on your shuttle and wait for my command."

'Understoods' echo over the comm as Garrus pulls on his helmet and links up with the channel, nodding to Jane in 'got it'. She nods back as she heads to the cockpit of the shuttle, standing over Cortez. "Get us out there, Cortez."

"Joining up with assault team. Closing in on the LZ, Commander."

"What's our visual?"

"Take a look for yourself," he says as he taps a command into the console, sending an image to the onboard vidscreen.

Garrus had never seen Earth before, not in person, but even he can tell that this isn't what it once looked like. The destruction is extensive, something that mirrors his own home if not for the smallest of details, and it's easy to see how men and women would look down upon this and see nothing but loss, destruction of their will to fight a seemingly unbeatable enemy.

"Dios… it doesn't even look like home anymore." The shuttle bucks with James' words, sending their hands to grip the hand rails.

Jane stares out at the destruction on the screen, her voice devoid of emotion as she seems to recite. "And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts say, come and see, and I looked, and behold a pale horse and the name that sat on him was death, and hell followed with him."

A loud boom fills the cabin, as if hearing her words, and drowns out most of what comes back from the cockpit expect a very urgent. "Hold on!"

That's all they _can_ do, their shuttle thrown around from the explosion directly beside their own. They don't need to confirmation from the pilot to know that the squad they're escorting has gone down, hit by the Hades cannon.

"Looks like we're the next in line to take that thing down," he says to his mate as she nods in agreement. "They were bound to have heavy weapons to destroy the Hades cannon on board."

"I can get you close, but not on top of it."

"Understood, Cortez," Jane agrees as she hits the release for the hatch, the massive door swinging open as they take cover.

A squad of Reaper forces awaits them, firing immediately into the shuttle without pause. With a hand gesture from his mate, he and Vega throw explosives into the crowd, gaining them the chance to jump down from the shuttle and into cover. Unfortunately, they have the lower ground, but with most of the husk creatures not having the intelligence to maintain cover anymore, they begin to approach, walking into their fire.

Garrus focuses on those further from their position, taking out Marauders from afar in quick succession. He knows this will be the test of all their skills and physical capabilities, the day he truly gets to test how far they've come over the years, and, even with all his confidence from fighting for so long, there is still that tiny bit of question of 'it is enough?'.

The Hades cannon is massive, powerful enough to send the ground into tremors beneath their feet. He struggles, even with his Leviathan advancements, at first to compensate, feeling the ricochet of weapons fire pinging off his cover before he quickly adapts. Counting the breaks in the cannon fire, he drops the last of those at a distance in between and watches those closing on them fall in time with Jane and James working together.

"All clear. Move forward."

Garrus trailing behind to provide a longer line of sight, they climb the rubble up into an outdoor stairwell that takes them up into a destroyed park, charred and dead flora crackling under their feet as they rush forward. Firing at an incoming Brute as it moves to cross the street on their position, weakening its resistance to his mate's control, he calls out to her, concerned by her massive use of biotics.

_Don't expend all your energy. We'll need it.  
_

**_No choice. I'm the only biotic._ **

He growls at that, wishing they had brought at least one more biotic even if four fully armored soldiers wouldn't have fit in the small hold of the shuttle, but they'll have to do with what they have. Watching her advance, he fires at those around her before she can use anything beyond her weapon against them.

 _Brute,_ he warns without letting her get on him for dropping enemies around her without her orders. She can get after him later for changing up their usual tactics, but, right now, he needs her to give her abilities a break. They have no idea how much more resistance they will face before she can have a chance to refuel.

Something also tells him this is just the beginning of pushing all their limits.

He Overloads the enhanced Brute's shields just before she take control of it, turning it loose on its own. As the two Brutes battle, roaring as they charge and press body to body, he runs to his wife and slides into her cover, removing his assault rifle.

Though not his choice of weapon, this close to enemies, it serves him well as he fires alongside his wife, dropping a pack of Cannibals with her own weapon sending spikes into those he does not mentally claim. They fall like dominos, as he's heard the human crew say, and, soon, they are left with only a single, controlled Brute that falls to James' grenade the moment the hold loosens.

"We need to hurry," Jane says as she jumps over a fence and begins to run down the potholed, uprooted street, avoiding the destroyed vehicles. "If we lose Hammer, we lose everything!"

He and Vega are right behind her as they rush up the fallen side of almost entirely collapsed building. Reaching a wall, the bright beam of the Hades lighting up the sky just above, she looks to them and points up in silent order to 'get our asses up there'.

"I need a fucking boost, dammit." She hits his shoulder in a hard pat and he drops to a knee immediately, offering his palms.

James takes the lead as they do, holstering his weapon and jumping to grab the ledge, pulling himself up. A toss gets Jane up before he, too, is following his wife up, pulling himself to the roof and removing his rifle from his back.

Vega has already begun laying down fire with the Reapers up here as they jump into cover, but the downed shuttle is within sight. Not a moment too soon as radio chatter keeps pouring in, the other two cannons down but Hammer not able to drop without this last Hades joining its kin in the dust.

**_I'm moving on the shuttle. Watch my back_ ** **.**

_What? Are you insane?_ He growls around his shot and looks to her with a scowl under his helmet, as if she could see. _No._

**_Disapproval noted._ **

That's all he gets before she's running, ducking under fire or throwing those in her way off with a wave of energy. It's a gift that he has his own advanced reflexes, he needs them to cover her advance with his own fire, pulling out of cover as he slowly follows in her path.

He's also pretty sure he heard James curse under his breath on the comm of their carelessness, and he doesn't blame him, but Garrus is too far into the battle to think straight. All he thinks is to cover her, drop everything in her and his own path, so she can get to those heavy weapons and free the air for Hammer, their only chance at regaining the Citadel.

Getting across the roof, he takes cover behind a still standing support pillar, seeing and recognizing the weapon in her hand. _A Cain certainly will destroy that damn thing_.

 ** _That's exactly what I was thinking_**. He can hear her smirk in her thoughts and motions Vega to take cover as she side steps around cover, holding the massive weapon to her shoulder.

Watching her decompress the trigger, the nozzle of the weapon starting to spin as it powers up, his body tenses, waiting to spring and drag her into cover the instant it launches. When it does, he sees the recoil press the weapon to her shoulder as if in slow motion and reaches out, wrapping an arm around her to haul her into cover beside the fallen shuttle.

Ducking her head under his chin, he hears not the Cain's fire landing, but sees the bright light and, a moment later, hears the thunder of the Hades' destruction. A glance around their cover shows the massive Reaper step and stumble, crashing down to Earth with a quake of the ground beneath them.

The victory is something they cannot relish, however, when they hear the loud wail of a Banshee drawing close. _Damn it._

**_You're telling me. I hate those fucking things._ **

"Merda! We need an extraction, Lola," James shouts as he pops out of his own cover and throws a grenade at the incoming Reapers climbing the rubble on the far end of the roof. "Where's Esteban?!"

"Not now!" She screams as she rolls and throws a ball of energy into the oncoming group to take control of a Ravager, gaining some power against the approaching asari abomination. "Focus!"

Reaper after Reaper converges on their position, one dropping to be replaced by another, and, just when they are starting to believe they have no choice but to accept that this may be where their last stand actually takes place, they get the communications they are hoping for. The voice is not one they know, but one they cherish all the same as an Alliance shuttle comes swooping in.

" _Come on, Commander! We'll cover you!_ ," that same voice shouts as the doors of the shuttle slam open, soldiers laying down fire across the roof. " _Hurry. We're taking fire!"_

Jane gives him a single look of 'ready?' before she stands and starts to sprint, covering ground fast. With a thrown mine to cover their retreat, Garrus too runs, coming up behind the Lieutenant just as James jumps the gap and into the shuttle. Landing with a heavy thump, he makes a quick check to ensure she's here just as the shuttle doors slide shut and the Alliance officer orders his pilot to fall back.

"You okay?" The officer asks, helping them right their weapons.

"Fan-fucking-tastic. Thanks for the lift."

"Good to see you again, Shepard." That voice is one Garrus _does_ recognize as its owner steps from the cockpit, a nod in greeting to them as he approaches. "I knew you wouldn't let me down," he says as he offers her a hand.

She takes it and pulls him into a half hug, patting his back roughly. "I had to pay you back for that great apartment, after all."

He chuckles softly and offers a hand to Garrus, which he takes with a firm shake. With one more shared handshake with Vega, the man looks them over. "You're definitely all a sight for sore eyes. And now that you've dealt with that last Hades cannon, Hammer can land."

"And not a moment too soon," the so far unnamed officer adds as he heads to the cockpit to assist the pilot.

Anderson nods. "What's left of the resistance is holding a FOB, but the Reapers are already countering our moves. Once we regroup, it's all up to Hammer to take up the fight."

"So no time to waste. We'll refuel and restock on ammo and be ready to go."

"That's good to hear," he says as his brows draw down and he shakes his head. "Let's just hope Hammer is ready for this."

"They're ready," Garrus confirms and Jane nods in agreement.

"This isn't a war against species, it's a war against every living person and they all know it. It took work, but they'll all fight as one."

"And that's what it'll take. It may have been hard, but I knew you'd bring everyone together." Anderson looks to the video feed for the shuttle. "A galaxy united… too bad it took all this," he motions the image of the destruction and the towering Reapers, "to bring us together."

"We're at the FOB, sir!"

"Good. Give Hammer forces the all clear to approach." He looks to them. "Do what you need to do to prepare and come find me. There's no turning back once we move."

"Understood, sir." She nods and looks to her own men. "James. Find the others and pull them together at the command center. Garrus, I assume you're with me?"

"Wouldn't be anywhere else."

The sounds of weapons fire is loud as they approach the FOB, the fighting never ceasing despite their proximity, and they don't move to open the hatch until given the completely assured 'all clear'. He assumed it would be because of their priority status in this fight, but he was never one to like peripheral treatment -probably because they were always thrown in the front of the fight- and it doesn't really give him much rest for his pounding adrenaline as he anticipates a fight the moment those doors open.

When they do, they are within a makeshift shuttle bay built within a pitted building. The human Admiral leads them out as an Alliance soldier rushes to their position. "Sir! We've set up a command center in the building east of here."

Anderson nods and looks to them to make sure they heard before addressing the soldier. "Has more of Hammer reported in?"

"Not as many as we'd like."

He seems to have expected as much, a cold truth of war. "I understand. Shepard, do what you must, but don't delay."

"Understood." She watches as he leaves before looking to James. "Regroup at the command center. Make sure you stock up on ammunition." He nods and heads down the incline of the rubble, searching for, hopefully, their second team.

Humming at the thought of what _may_ have happened, Garrus reaches into one of the holsters on his suit and pulls out a calorie bar, one of the more expensive ones that he only keeps for desperate times, this being the very epitome of the word. "Here. You need to eat."

She grumbles in protest, but removes her helmet with a sigh, biting into the package and spitting out the plastic before station to devour it. "Fuck it, Garrus," she says when she swallows. "I don't know what to say to you right now. I'll be damned if I say 'goodbye'."

He rumbles in thought to that before looking to her. "Then don't say it. Just think about what we'll do after this… I think we should retire, free the galaxy of the Vakarians for a while."

She chuckles. "Until the kids are let loose."

"Then perhaps we should stay around, just to prepare everyone for that," he responds with a hand to her cheek, seeing the pain and fear in her eyes. "James told me there's an old saying here on Earth. 'May you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you're dead.'" Frowning himself, he steps closer to her and removes his helmet to press his forehead to hers. "Don't know what it's like there, but whoever gets there first buys the drinks."

There's no question that, if one goes, the other follows. Despite their every will to want to be there for their family, he knows there is no way one can survive without the other to share their pains, their burdens, and their happiness. Only thing that may affect their deaths is the time between, but he'll wait for her no matter what, holding a chair for her until she arrives.

She scowls, but the pain is still there as she makes a demand. "You better learn to dodge some bullets, because I sure as hell don't plan on dying."

His only answer to that is something his heart tells him to do more than anything as he pulls her as close as their armor will allow, cupping her head in one hand as the other wraps around her. Leaning down, he kisses her with all the pain and need for her to be alright through this. She _has_ to survive this, knowing that she has been set up from the beginning as a martyr that he will _never_ let her be, and will fight until his last breath to make sure that she makes it out of this.

As painful as it is to break from her, he lets her draw away. Time is too short and, the longer they make empty promises, the smaller their chance to actually fulfill any of them.

So, instead, he follows her down the rubble and towards the Commander Center, across the street barricaded by the Alliance from Reaper forces and sidestepping the incoming soldiers and tanks. Those of their team that Jane had ordered off the ship are all in attendance when they arrive, a good sign for her plans, whatever those may be, and Garrus can't help that sense of pride that they will all be going into this together that flicks at his mandibles.

"Commander." Anderson greets as she cuts through her squad to approach the central command projection. "We're just going over the sitrep." They all move to see as he taps a command to show a projection of the camp. "Only fifty percent of Hammer has reported in."

"Damn. Any way we can move with that?"

"We'll have to. While we still have stragglers reporting in, this is the bulk of Hammer left. We're as ready as we'll ever be."

"What's the plan, Admiral," Alenko asks as he crosses his hands behind his back.

He nods and motions to the other Alliance officers in the room, the men and women approaching the hologram. Once they all surround the readout, he begins to explain. "We've all fought hard to reach this point, but now is where it really gets tough." He motions to an image of towering beams of light, their only way to the Citadel from the planet's surface. "We've got to get through Reaper-controlled territory, break through their defenses, and get as many of us to that beam." He slides the image closer to their own position, revealing the image of a Destroyer-class Reaper. "Our biggest obstacle is the Destroyer protecting the beam."

"There's some sort of interference stopping us from launching an aerial attack," the man that seems like Anderson's second in command says. "Our only option is an attack launched from the ground."

"That's right." Anderson leans back with a hand to his chin. "If we manage to cross no-man's land, through the city, we can get our tanks close enough to take a shot at that thing and take it out. That's where our separate Hammer teams come in."

"We're bound to lose people," Ash protests with a concerned look and Anderson nods.

"This will be a one-way trip for many of us. But there can be no retreat, no stepping back." He looks around the room with a stern, confident look. "We move forward at all costs. Understood?"

All of the Alliance soldiers salute, letting out a spirited holler, those aliens like himself stilling nodding and emitting their own barks of acknowledgement. Anderson nods himself before looking to his men. "Coats, Johnson. You will co-ordinate the artillery units. Shepard. I'm sending you right up the gut where the resistance is heaviest."

"I understand, but take my men. They can assist the other teams." She looks to them for affirmation and they all nod. "They can offer support and lead other strike teams."

Anderson thinks on, but nods. "Let me know who." Looking to her, he says, "Stay alive, Shepard. I need you for the final push to the beam." The older man looks to her with a sympathetic smile and pats her back. "I'll give you a minute with your squad. Pick you people well, don't pull your punches for my teams."

She nods as he moves to his own men to begin his preparations, leaving the Normandy crew all before her. Jane looks them over before tossing aside the empty wrapper of her calobar. "I won't mince words and I won't play nice to your feelings. We probably won't live through this, but I'll be damned if I just lie down and take it without a fight.

"We've been through too much shit to say we aren't anything _but_ family. As odd as we all may be, we have something the Reapers will never have, never understand. We have something to live for, to _die_ for." She walks to them, standing directly before them as she says, "Remember that with every step you take, with every bullet you fire, you are fighting for a _future_. Not just for yourselves, but for everyone, soldier or civilian, child or adult.

"We _will_ win this fucking war! Together we resist, we fight! And together we will prevail!"

"Hoo-rah!" Vega shouts, Kaidan and Ashley joining.

"Let's kick some Reaper ass!" Ash says as she rubs her gloved hands together and Javik nods.

Jane chuckles with a smirk, pride in them radiating off her in wave that Garrus can feel from where he stands with the group. "Sounds like one hell of a fucking plan, Ash." Looking to him, she nods her head to stand with her. "Garrus and I will take Javik and EDI with us. Ash, Kaidan, and James, work with Anderson, see what teams of Hammer need leaders. Let's show the Reapers why you don't fuck with the Normandy crew."

* * *

 

The fight is brutal to defend and launch the tank's artillery.

With seemingly endless waves of Reaper forces coming at them, they can barely avoid the own Destroyer's beam targeting them, and their bodies are pushed to the very limits of what they are capable of. If she could, he's sure even EDI would be feeling the toll, but they can't rest, can't do more than catch their breaths as they ride in a working Mako towards the very edge of those buildings still standing.

From there is possibly the most harrowing sprint they will ever have as they run towards the base of the beam that will transport them into the Citadel.

The very fact that the only real goal was to get a 'few' soldiers through was a chilling thought, one that he didn't want to think about considering the odds, and one that didn't lend well to the promise he and his mate had made. As he takes her hand, he resolves himself to the fact that there is no choice, that they must do this, and just wishes for the two of them to either make it, or for her to not have to see him die because he refuses to believe she would be the one to go before. He wouldn't be able to go on in that situation, not again.

"This is our stop," Admiral Anderson says as he stands. "This is-"

The Mako bucks and tosses the Admiral into Javik's lap as they crash into something. Feeling it come to a sudden stop, Garrus kicks the hatch open and growls at the sight of the flaming nose. They must have been hit by one of the Reapers that have retreated to cover Hammer's advance.

"Shit," Anderson curses as they rush out and over the rise, stopping in their tracks at the sight.

The middle of the city may have been called no-man's land, but _this_ , this straight away through the destruction, is the true no-man's land. There is nothing between them and the glowing beam, nothing but rubble on either side and a massive Reaper - _it can't be…_ \- that sends his mate into a soft curse in recognition.

Rain slicks their armors as Anderson looks to them, unholstering his weapon. "Move!"

So they run, sprinting as fast as their legs will carry them as they weave in between the tanks and dodge incoming Reaper fire. Each blast sends him stumbling, but he does not falter, the need to keep moving pushing his legs harder than he could ever remember. The expanse seems to stretch on forever, the passing tanks making him feel like moving in water and an open target, but even that feeling of movement does not last.

He watches as his mate dives under a tank that comes tumbling towards their position and, in dropping to the ground to avoid it, he doesn't see the second that comes flying right at him. In fact, he doesn't even know of the second or even feel it as his entire senses go absent.


	47. Chapter 47

-Jane-

She sees the Mako fly over her, body and eyes turning to follow it in horror as it goes straight for her men, for _him_. It explodes on impact, sending shrapnel and flames flying, but she couldn't give two shits as she runs straight into the fray, ignoring the pain as something hits her from the blast.

"GARRUS!" She screams, so strained her voice cracks and shatters as she stumbles from another blast from Harbinger. "Garrus! Talk to me!" _Say something, you fucking bastard!_

A groan is her answer as she reaches the overturned tank and she gasps in painful relief, that happiness quickly bursting into an agonizing inferno as she _sees_.

Javik and EDI were given the better of the situations, EDI's platform damaged to the point that some of her panels are missing as she has a hitch in her step and Javik burned and limping from the explosion, but Garrus? _Oh God, my love…_

He's pinned from the tank, on his stomach with his left side disappearing under the tank, and he's bleeding so much _blood_. Blue paints the dirt as she cries out and tries, futilely, to lift it off him, slipping in his thick blood. Her body's own pain is overlooked, the red of her own blood draining from her abdomen nothing but a color, but it doesn't help, nothing does, and the Mako's corpse does not move.

"Move you fucking piece of shit!" She's sobbing, the rain masking her tears as she demands the others to help her. "Move your fucking asses and _help_ me!"

"J… Jane." His voice is thick with blood, but still as strong as she's always known it to be, as he reaches his good arm to her.

Collapsing in the dirt, she wails and rips off his helmet before her own. "Please… don't do this… don't make me go it alone," she pleads as she presses her forehead to his, salty tears rolling down her ash covered cheeks.

He huffs a weak chuckle and covers her hand with his only free one, the other in a state she can't bear to consider. "As much as I hate to say it…" He coughs up blood, the blue spattering on her chest and neck. "I think… this is my stop…"

Her sobs turn into whines as she clings onto his facial plates, body running cold as she presses her lips to his forehead, holding them there in trying to memorize his smell, the feel of him beneath her lips. Hearing his rumbling purr, he trying to soothe _her_ , she sobs anew and whispers, "Wait for me."

"...Always… I'll keep the seat warm…" She sucks in a painful breath at that, but he simply nudges her head with his own and presses his mouth to hers before adding, "Give me my rifle…"

Following without question, she drags the battered weapon across the ground and helps him hold it as best they can manage against his shoulder. As she trembles, she kisses him, crying against his plates as her tears pour, needing to feel his warmth one last time.

"Javik…" She looks up to the Prothean, about to beg him to watch her mate, to be with him so he's not alone, and the man nods.

"I will cover Hammer's advance from here, Commander," he says, words one thing but meaning an entirely other thing. 'I will take care of him.'

She nods in thanks as Garrus licks her tears with his bloody tongue. "Put your helmet on, Jane," he whispers softly in mock admonishment and she nods, slipping the stifling thing on around her mess of a face, tears and hot breath fogging the visor. "...Give them hell…"

"And take no prisoners," she agrees weakly as she lets EDI help her up, her abdomen protesting loudly with a sharp stab of pain. "I love you, Garrus."

"And I love you, Jane."

"Shepard. We must move," EDI says sadly, frowning as she looks to Jane. "It's not safe here."

Sniffing loudly, she nods and lets the woman pull her into a stumbling walk, her bleeding waist not letting her do anything above that. They're close, drawing upon the heat of the beam, and she knows that they can't really avoid another blast. With hope, they are too close to the beam's structure to be targeted, that they don't prove interesting enough targets.

Plus, she thinks it'd be pretty fucked if she's come all this way to not even be able to die beside her husband, but further and further away as they cross the desolate earth between them and the glowing beam.

As they near it, stepping over bodies and in blood, her legs tremble, her will breaking. She wants so bad to look back and search for him, to beg once more to survive, to defy the odds one last time, but the damnable AI beside her doesn't let her falter, practically carrying her to the end.

Weaponless and weak, they aren't prepared for the turian husk to pick itself up from the dust. After coming within meters of the beam, she knows she will now fall by a Reaper minion before ever seeing the Citadel again, before even coming _close_ to accomplishing her mission after being forced to leave behind her one love.

She closes her eyes with a final curse at the Reapers before she hears a familiar sound cut through the blast of Reaper fire. Eyes snap open just in time to see the Marauder without its head fall to the ground and her mouth falls open, her feet almost stopping their forward movements if not for EDI's arm around her bleeding waist.

**_Scratch... one._ **

Jane releases a weak laugh, more relief at hearing his voice than anything else, at knowing he's still there and that he's holding on. He must feel it, or know her reaction, because he calls back just before they reach the Citadel's beam.

**_Destroy them and come back… I'm waiting…_ **

She doesn't know if he hears her _Always_ in return, but she hopes he knows it as she and EDI step into the beam, into the heat. They are shot into the sky, the feeling of going through a Relay miniaturized, condescended down into just the two of them.

She doesn't know where they are thrown out, but it stinks, it's dark, and she's pretty sure those are bodies under her. Groaning in pain and disgust, she looks around to find EDI, the synthetic's body lying in her own pile of corpses.

Jane tries to crawl over the limbs and slick floor, a hand on her most likely broken ribs and collapsing lung - she doesn't want to think about whatever organ was hit with the shining piece of metal within her and doesn't think pulling it right now would be the smartest idea - she reaches her friend's body and shakes it. "EDI, get the fuck up… come on…"

" _Is anyone still on this frequency? Report."_

"Anderson?" She says into her comm, frowning in confusion as EDI's systems start to reboot, the body beginning to move.

" _Shepard. I can't believe anyone else has made it... I thought our whole damn force was wiped out."_

"All of it?" Her stomach clenches as EDI helps her to her feet, she failing at first but managing to get up. "Fuck… Where are you?"

"Shepard," EDI looks around the room, some sort of chamber filled with corpses of all species. "I believe the entrance has launched anyone who managed to make it to different locations. Much like using a Relay without proper access to their networks to choose a destination."

" _Keep moving. We have to find the controls… to the arms."_

"I'm hurt, sir. Pretty bad."

" _Me too… Barely dodged one of those damn beams… Just keep moving. One of us has to make it…"_

Jane spits out a glob of phlegm and blood as they stumble over the corpses, walking through what must be a Keeper tunnel. As they approach what seems like a dead end, the walls shift and open, reveal a massive chasm, light gleaming in through the structures, light that has to be the atmosphere of the inner Citadel walls.

A descent over a path lays before them, then again, so does a massive number of Reaper forces. "Shit-"

" _Found Reapers! Be careful!"_

They practically fall into cover, making her gasp in pain, just in time before gunfire erupts. "Dammit. Now fucking weapons." She looks to EDI and motions the enemy with a head jerk. "Tell me you have something to help."

EDI pauses, running a diagnostic before leaning out and launching an Incinerate that bursts before hitting the group, sending fire to cover the Husks. "I'm afraid many of my other functions are too badly damaged for me to use without possible injury to others in my vicinity."

"Meaning me." EDI nods and Jane curses under her breath. "Let's hope at least someone made it through with a weapon."

Leaning out of cover, she drains the last of her power to turn a Marauder to their side and unleash it on the other husks. Unfortunately, it falls too quickly and Jane prepares for the worst when more gunfire echoes through the cavernous chamber they are in.

In shock and surprise, Jane looks over her cover to see not just anyone in blue armor leading a small squad of Blue Suns, but their _squadmate,_ Arcanus Reguix, firing from one of the other bridges upon the Reapers forces. Staying in cover, as it's all they can really do, Jane and EDI wait until the gunfire dies, until they can decide whether to trust that their allies are truly here to provide cover or have fallen to the Reapers.

Peeking out, she calls out. "Come to finish paying me back that favor, Arcanus?"

"Commander Shepard," he says with a chuckle. "I should have expected you to be the one to make it through."

"We are not alone," EDI adds.

"Yes. I am getting reports from my men across the station that there are a select few making it onto the station, but their condition does not seem to be much better than yours."

Speaking of, Jane slowly climbs to her feet to get a good look at Arcanus and his men. "You've been holding out this long?"

He nods and motions towards the light before them. "This might be a cross over. I suggest we can regroup there and my men and I provide cover for you."

"We need to open the arms of the Citadel," she says as EDI begins to help her limp down the cavern.

" _Shepard. I've been found by mercenaries… They claim to be your allies… Is this true?"_

"You can trust them, sir." She coughs up blood and EDI frowns. "Arcanus. What's ahead of us."

"I do not know. My men and I have not come this far and it is not something mapped out on any Citadel blue prints."

"Not… asking how you have those," she groans as they enter a large cylindrical chamber with a stunning view of the inside of the Citadel arms. By every guess, this place must be somewhere in the Presidium tower, the center most point of the Citadel and, coincedently, a similar place to where Sovereign had tried to attach itself to take control over the station. "This has to be it…"

The Blue Suns rush up the intersecting ramp, Arcanus' group with, apparently, more incoming. Just what they need, as the sounds of screaming and painful moaning begins to echo through the chamber.

"Reapers," Arcanus growls, looking to her and motioning the solitary console above. "That might be what you are looking for. We will cover you."

Rushing wouldn't really be what they do, but they manage to get to the console, Jane leaning on it with her best attempt at a barrier she can muster to protect herself. EDI works immediately at the command terminal and, slowly, they begin to see cracks appear before them, the Citadel arms beginning to open.

"Anderson…" Jane calls through her comm, the signal experiencing interference. "We did it. The arms are opening." _Garrus… are you there? Please be there…_

She _has_ to believe his silence is from the distance, has to demand that she not give up hope as she listens for the Admiral take away her attention from her pleas to her hurt husband.

" _Shepard… Might not make it…"_

"Dammit, not you too," she snaps over the comm as the ground begins to shift, her comm traffic going wild with confusion over the lack of response from the Crucible with the now attached Catalyst. "Get off your ass and-"

"Jane!"

She blinks and looks down to a voice that has never said her name before -which is strange considering _no one_ calls her by name - and realizes with panic that the ground is rising, taking her and EDI higher and higher from the battle between Arcanus and his men and the Reapers. She clings to EDI to keep from falling off as they ascend, cursing that she won't get to spend the end with her one true love.

When the lift settles, it nearly sends Jane to her feet if not for EDI holding her up. Around them is a bright, pulsing light and she doesn't know what to say, what to do with one more hurdle before them until EDI, quietly, says, "It's a computer."

"What?" The AI points to a massive terminal system before them, easing Jane into a painful walk. "EDI, could this be the Intelligence the Leviathan were talking about?"

"It is possible." She is released as EDI starts to tap at the keys that make no sense to her. "I believe so… It's programming is similar to that of the Reaper code used within me."

"So this is the fucker that made them?" She looks up at the pulsing light. "Why? Why harvest organics?"

"It had deduced that, similar to biotics, organics can absorb dark energy. It has not been entirely successful at obtaining its goal to completely stabilize the problem that threatens the galaxy."

Shaking her head, she sighs. "Can we destroy it with the Crucible?"

"No."

"What?! Why the hell not?" Her fist clenches as she scowls up at the large beam of light.

"It is not a weapon. The Crucible is… its communications module."

"You're fucking kidding. All we did was make a call button for the damn thing? With what? The Reapers?"

"Yes," EDI confirms as she looks to her. "But we may be able to use this, Shepard."

"Explain."

"Without it, the Intelligence and Reapers were not in a connected network. Now that they are, there could be a way to confuse the Intelligence into a self-destructive state." At Jane's frown, she tries to explain. "I may be able to bypass its firewalls for a short time thanks to my multiple codes. I also believe I can use the Prothean VI, Vengeance, to set in a virus code, much like Protheans had when they disabled its ability to control the Relays."

"Wouldn't that put you at risk?"

"Yes." She stops and looks to Jane with a frown. "It could destroy my programming before I can withdraw. Aside from not working, it could put the entire Normandy at risk. I could, in essence, die."

"And if it works?"

"Then only my platform's programming will be affected. I will still exist within the Normandy, but I will no longer be able to occupy this form."

"Do it." _They all know the price of winning this war._

While she would regret sending the entire Normandy to their possible deaths without them ever knowing it, if it saves the galaxy, she's sure they'd forgive her posthumously. If not, they could always take it out on her in whatever existence comes after this one.

"Shepard. There is one last thing." Looking up at the structure before back to her, EDI tilts her head with a soft frown. "When the Intelligence attempts to correct the redundancy in its coding, it will most likely destroy this chamber along with itself."

"And you don't know how to lower this platform, I take it?" EDI shakes her head and Jane sighs, rubbing her head with her bloodied hand. "Shit." _I'm sorry, Garrus_. "I knew this would be one way."

"I am sorry, Shepard."

She shakes her head and takes EDI's hand, taking it to hover over the console. "Do it. No retreat, no giving up."

EDI nods and begins typing at the terminal, her Reaper tech most likely aiding in reading the foreign data. Jane can do nothing but hold her bleeding stomach, not sure if the amount of blood draining lessening is necessarily such a good thing. "Shepard. My programming stops me from the choice as it could lead to self-terminating." She looks to her commander. "You must be the one to make the final push."

Seeing the woman motion the holographic image of a palm, Jane looks to her friend, the last one by her side, and reaches forward, laying her hand down of the easy to activate, thanks to EDI's efforts, command. In an instant, EDI jerks as she emits a grinding scream before slumping over the terminal.

"EDI?!" She staggers over just as the platform slides off the terminal and to the ground with a heavy thump, leaving her entirely alone with no idea what the fate of the galaxy is. "Fuck, fuck…"

Looking around the chamber, entirely alone, Jane cries in loss and desperation, loss at coming so far just to fail. "Fuck you!" She screams at the Intelligence, over and over. "Fuck you, you piece of fucking shit!"

Over and over she yells until her throat cannot emit sound, her throat coughing up blood as she leans heavily against the console. She pounds her fists over and over, thinking of all those she's condemned to and watched die, only one repeating no matter how hard she try not to envision him as one of those gone.

"I'm sorry, Garrus… I failed," she says just as she hears a loud grinding and low reverberation of sound, almost too low for her to hear.

Looking up, the beam of light flares brighter and dimmer, faster and faster until it strobes bright, making her eyes water and head hurt. She can only hope that means a single thing, that EDI succeeded, that whatever virus or coding or whatnot has managed to overwork the Intelligence's system and send it into overdrive, causing it to destroy itself and its creations along with it.

She huffs a laugh as she watches it flare brightly, burning her eyes to keep staring though she continues, wanting to be the last thing she ever sees the destruction of the fucking thing. They _will_ win this, even if it takes her with it, and she will give her children the lives they deserve, one free from the threat of death by some sick harvest.

Feeling the chamber around her quake and break apart, she starts to hum, singing softly as they only thing, only _one_ , she could ever imagine sharing this time with fills her mind. Death means nothing if not her chance to join him, to be with her mate and husband, the one she has only ever loved with such devotion.

He has given her everything, from a life worth fighting for to their impossible twins, and, though she can't physically be with him as her own universe falls down upon her like the very slabs of metal and concrete, she can be with him in mind and spirit.

"Take my hand," she sings softly as she looks at her bloodied glove, red and shimmering in the flames as the Citadel crashes down around her. "Take my whole life too… For I can't help falling in love with you."


	48. Epilogue

Titus goes to the ceremony that marks the end of the war, the one that doesn't actually happen for months after the Reapers actually fall. Not because he thinks of it as the mass funeral ceremony that it is intended nor the celebration of the end of the war that many choose to see it as to alleviate the loss and atrocities, but because he looks at his presence as a sense of duty for those who cannot go themselves.

He goes for a select few in particular, even found a pair of borrowed dress blues to attend the ceremony for. It doesn't matter to him that he barely knew many, he isn't here for himself, but for his children, blood related and not, to be their presence in this sense of lost direction and injured hope.

"The war is over," the human Admiral says above the crowd, as stoic as any turian would be proud to be. "The Reapers have been defeated. Against all odds, and in the face of the greatest threat this galaxy had ever known, we survived."

The man looks through the crowd and finds those remaining members of the Normandy, as if speaking to them when he says, "We suffered many losses. Our homes are severely damaged, but we have won."

Returning his attention to the crowd, Admiral Hackett crosses his arms behind his back, his face drawn from the stresses of this war and aftermath. "This victory belongs to each of us… every man, woman, and child. Every civilization on every world. Now, as we take our first steps toward restoring what we lost, we must remember what it took to win." _Who it took to win_ , Titus can't help but think.

"This was a victory by a single fleet, a single army, or even a single species. If this war has taught us anything, it is that we are at our strongest when we work together. And if we can put down our grievances long enough to stop something as powerful as the Reapers, imagine what we can achieve now that they are defeated."

It begins to rain on this dark day here in this shattered Earthen city, but it doesn't stop the man as he continues, looking to each and every one within the audience within the makeshift central hub. "It will take time, but we can rebuild everything that was destroyed. Our homes, our worlds, our fleets and defenses. All of this and more.

"Together, we can build a future greater than any one of us could imagine. A future paid for by the sacrifices of those who fought and died alongside us. A future many will never see," sobs go through the crowd, those who lost and won't get back unable to hold back their tears, but the Admiral continues on as Titus never looks away, never lets his pain take hold.

"And while we still have many challenges ahead of us… we can face them together. And we will honor those who died to give us that future."

At that, Titus drops his head, a cold silence moving through the crowd. Pain is one of the worst ways to bring others together, one that he was raised knowing was just a fact of life, but he knows that many are not so lucky to be made numb. He doesn't stay after the Admiral's speech, not ready to see the loss in others' eyes or the guilt of being one of those had survived.

Walking to the small tent far from the probing eyes of outsiders in the heavy rain, he ducks into the dark room it creates, hearing the soft and steady breathing in tandem with the even gentler purrs and rumbles of the tiny babies he was entrusted to watch over.

"You shouldn't be up," he admonishes the shadow figure in the darkness sitting beside the bed. "But I expect you'd want to be here."

The figure lets out a gruff chuckle, weak from their condition. "Just like old times."


End file.
